


The Stolen Child

by Introvertia



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Billy Hargrove Lives, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Catholic Guilt, Fluff and Angst, Folklore, Gay Billy Hargrove, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Miscarriage, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Selkies, Smoking, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25779904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introvertia/pseuds/Introvertia
Summary: Billy unearths a family secret, that will change Steve's life forever and his own as well.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 23
Kudos: 149





	The Stolen Child

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flippyspoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to my comrade Flippy, drunk uncle to many, novelist, friend and confidant. 
> 
> The title of this fic was taken from the poem of the same name by William Butler Yates, you should read it and cry, because it's beautiful and wistful and makes me want to run away with the fae.
> 
> Warning: This is just a touch mushy because it’s kind of a fairy tale!

**_The Stolen Child_ **

_Once upon a time…_

**_October 1982_ **

**_The Hawk Movie Theater_ **

“Well he’s never going to be like everyone else.”

Richard Harrington’s voice carried. He wasn’t a particularly large man, but he had one of those voices that could easily be picked out in a crowd. His baritone voice had been one of the first things Catherine had noticed about him when she was seventeen, two years later they’d married.

“Shh.” Catherine Harrington’s cheeks were burning, why he always chose public places for private discussions she’d never been able figure out. “That’s not fair. He’s a good boy, he’s growing up to be a good man.” She stage whispered.

“You’re the one that wanted a baby.”Richard retorted coldly.

“We both did, remember?” Catherine’s voice was barely above a whisper she was furious. “I had three miscarriages, three! You wanted to keep trying, remember!”

“I wish you’d never brought him home.” Richard said his voice just a fraction lower.

“I wish I’d never married you.” Catherine stood up, her hands were shaking she was so angry. Standing there in the middle of the Hawk movie theater, she could feel the eyes of the other theatergoers on her in the flickering light of the previews. She looked at the popcorn in her hands and dumped the entire bucket on Richard’s head, including the bucket.

Fifteen year old Steve Harrington sank in his seat as his mother walked up the aisle. He’d snuck into the theater with Tommy to see First Blood, it was rated R and the last people he expected to be there, to see a movie about a crazed Vietnam Vet, were his parents.

“Man, your dad’s an asshole.” Tommy whispered.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Steve said cooly.

**_Thursday Night, August 8th, 1985_ **

**_The Harrington Household_ **

“Happy Birthday.” Steve’s mother said kissing his temple.

“Thanks mom.” Steve mumbled, he was in the middle of demolishing a bagel with cream cheese.

“Are you going to spend your birthday with your girlfriend?” His mother inquired.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Steve said after swallowing his food.

“I guess it’s for the best.” Mrs Harrington said.

“She’s coming over to swim.” Steve said, watching his mother pour herself a cup of coffee.

Steve wondered what the comment, ‘for the best’,was about, he assumed it was because Robin’s family wasn’t upper class enough for his mother’s taste. His parents were snobs.

“I was thinking, it would be nice if maybe you and I took a trip together.” Steve’s mother looked at him like she’d just offered him a million dollars.

“Where?” Steve asked suspiciously.

“I thought we could go to Perth, and then Firth of Tay.” She said brightly.

“Scotland.” Steve rolled his eyes. Every time he had a significant birthday his mother would talk about taking him to some tiny town on the coast of Scotland.

“What about Edinburgh? It’s a big city.” Steve felt like he was humoring a child. He knew she would never buy the tickets. He’d fallen for it when he was five, and then again at ten and one last time on his thirteenth birthday, but not this time.

“We could fly in to Edinburgh I imagine they have an international airport, when I went to the UK, I flew into Heathrow, of course that was a while ago. We could spend a day or two in London and then we can trundle off to Perth and then to Firth of Tay.”

“Trundle?” Steve asked.

“Take a tour bus or something.” She waved her hand as if that was obviously what she meant,“I can take you to see Ballinbreich Castle,” She smiled and her eyes were getting a faraway look. “You’re done with high school and between jobs.” She paused and looked at him her brow lightly furrowed, “I’ll never get over how we’re so lucky you weren’t inside that mall. It’s a miracle really.” She reached over and stroked his hair back form his temple.

Steve jerked his head back, “Yeah, you’ve said.”

“Well I’m just thankful you weren’t injured any worse than you were.” She folded her arms looking hurt.

“Mom,” Steve wanted to tell her she needed to stop pretending he was some kind of miracle child, stop pretending they were close, stop pretending she was going to actually follow through on her imaginary dream vacations.

“I gotta get ready. Robin’s going to be here soon. I need to skim the pool.” He got up and placed his dish in the sink.

“What’s her family name again?” His mother asked distractedly.

“Buckley.” Steve said before swallowing the last of his iced tea.

“That’s an Irish name.” She murmured.

“I remember mom, you told me when, oh never mind.” Steve looked at his mother, she was sipping her coffee watching him. “When we go to Scotland we’ll have to get Robin one of those old timey knit wool sweaters she likes those.”

“That’s a great idea.” She smiled.

“Cool, I’m going out back.” Steve gestured with his thumb in the general direction of the pool.

Steve wished he could move out, but he wasn’t even employed.

“Don’t forget your father is taking us out for dinner tonight, be ready at six-thirty, wear a tie.” His mother called after him.

“Great.” Steve said sarcastically.

********

Robin was drifting along in an inner tube that Steve had inflated just for her. She was wearing a turquoise blue bathing suit with white polkadots. Her red sunglasses reflected the sun and matched the red on her toenails.

“You look like an extra from Happy Days.” Steve teased.

“It’s called style, dingus. You should get some.” She peered at him over her sunglasses.

“I have great style.” Steve said.

“Hmm. I’ve seen worse. You didn’t invite the children did you?” Robin asked her tone accusatory.

“No, no way. I just wanted to hang out with you. I don’t like making a fuss on my birthday. I wouldn’t have told you but you already knew because of that stupid employee morale calendar.”

“It’s weird, you know. I remember seeing when your birthday was and planning on making you pay me to cover your shift.” Robin smiled and waggled her eyebrows.

“You were going to extort money from me on my birthday? Buckley, you’re diabolical.” Steve shook head, he had his elbows resting on the side of the pool.

“It’s not technically extortion,” Robin explained,”I mean I wasn’t going to threaten you or anything, besides, we’re friends now and both unemployed so it worked out.” She smiled brightly at him, “You get your birthday off and I get to come over and swim in your pool. We’re all winners on your birthday Steve.”

Steve shrugged and sunk under the water. Robin sighed enjoying the sun on her skin and the sleepy feeling of drifting. She thought she might fall asleep when she had the unsettling realization that Steve had gone under the water well over a minute ago and not resurfaced. She sat up and peered in the water, when she saw through the glare on the water, that Steve at the bottom of the pool, she flung herself sideways out of the inner tube and swam towards him as quickly as she could. She watched in disbelief as Steve exhaled a chain of bubbles and casually swam to the surface.

“Oh my god Steve, I thought you had drowned!” Robin surfaced yelling at him.

“Sorry sorry, I can hold my breath for a long time okay?” Steve looked at Robin like she was over reacting. He held out her sunglasses to her, she’d not even realized she’d lost them when she’d thrown herself in the water.

“How long?” Robin asked taking her glasses back and resting them on top of her head.

“like two minutes?” Steve shrugged, he was underestimating, he was pretty sure he’d gone four minutes one time, but it had made his hands go numb and his head buzz. 

“What are you, a Navy Seal? You scared me!” Robin slapped the surface of the water splashing Steve in the face. “I thought you drowned. Jesus.” Robin swam back to her tire, she looked at her wrist and realized he bracelet was at the bottom of the pool. “Get my bracelet, fish-boy!”

“Yes, your majesty.” Steve laughed and pushed off the edge of the pool dove under the water.

Steve felt bad for worrying Robin, both his parents had told him it was dangerous to stay under the surface like that. His mother warned him he’d black out and his father said he’d have an aneurysm. He thought their concerns were ridiculous. He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t swimming, it was like he was born to do it.

**Friday, April 4th, 1986**

**Family Video**

Robin walked into work with a smile on her face, she couldn’t help it. She clocked in and tossed her bag in her locker and slipped on her vest and went out to the sales floor looking for Steve.

“Hey Keith.” Robin called.

“Robin?” Keith said between taking a bite of a candy bar and filling out a work schedule.

“Where’s Steve?” She asked.

“He’s walking old man Miller to his car.” Keith said without looking up.

“I see.” Robin said, and peered out the storefront window looking for Steve.

She spotted him standing next to Mr Miller’s ancient Cadillac. Robin swung open the front door as soon as Steve was headed back in. Steve, thought she had a crazed look in her eyes, but his mind was elsewhere.

“He’s going to drive that boat of a car right through the store window one of these days! How does he even see over the steering wheel?” Robin was watching Mr Miller drive out of the parking lot.

Steve looked at Robin meaningfully and announced “Mr Miller said Billy Hargrove is working at the church, Saint Margrets! Down on Shawnee Drive! He was talking about Scoops one second, and how he was glad you and I were alive and that he missed the Sunday Sundae Specials, and then he mentioned Billy! It just blew my mind! Billy Hargrove is working at a church? Do you think he’s doing it for the communion wine?”

“I thought Max said he was being released from the hospital like two weeks ago?” Robin.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded.

“Can we talk about Billy later? I have really big news.” Robin said.

“You got into Harvard.” Steve said matter of factly.

"I got into Harvard! Steve, how come you said that?” Robinpunched Steve in the shoulder.

“Because I knew you would.” Steve said.

“But I wanted to tell you, I just got my acceptance letter.”

“I knew you would.” Steve shrugged.

“I”m in though, like I’m really in!” Robin hopped up and down and then grabbed Steve by the shoulders and shook him.

“Congratulations Buckley.” Steve smiled and raised his hand for a high-five.

  
“Thanks.” Robin slapped her palm to his but didn’t miss the forlorn expression on his face.

“Aren’t you happy for me, I mean just a little tiny bit?” Robin asked.

“Oh, yeah, like over the moon!” Steve said and smiled warmly, “I’ll treat you to dinner tonight.”

“Thanks, I’d really like that.” Robin said.

**Thursday May 1st, 1986**

**Saint Margaret’s Parish Cemetery**

Billy leaned back against a tall weatherworn headstone, the grave’s occupant’s name was Hogarth Nelson. Billy liked to imagine that Hogarth appreciated his company, unlike the rest of the world. Hogarth had been planted in 1899, one of the first occupants as far as Billy could tell, he wished he knew more about Hogarth. The thing they had in common was that they’d both died when they were eighteen years old, only Billy had come back.

The headstone had absorbed the afternoon heat and felt like mercy against Billy’s sore back. He ran the tips of his fingers over the pale green grass that covered the cemetery grounds. Billy had just finished a peanut butter and jam sandwich and a bruised peach. He drank water from an old jam jar and rested his eyes. It was bright out and he was getting a headache from squinting, he didn’t know if his eyes had become more sensitive to light since dying or if he was just imagining it. He’d spent the morning and most of the early afternoon weeding the cemetery. It was a small plot of land, just behind the church and no one had been buried there since 1949. He was surprised to find that sitting alone in the parish cemetery was his new favorite thing to do.

The insects were humming and somewhere not too far off he could hear cows lowing, and then Billy heard a truck horn beep twice. He reluctantly got up and dusted off his backside before walking towards the parking lot on the other side of the church grounds. The thought of going into Hawkins proper made his stomach twist, but he knew he couldn’t hide on the church grounds forever.

Billy spotted the librarian, Marissa, leaning on the side of a beat up brown pickup truck parked in the small gravel lot behind Saint Margaret’s Parrish, her dark hair was partially hidden by a red scarf, her large sunglasses made her like a budget Jackie Onassis. Billy had never really spoken to her before, but knew her from hanging out at the Hawkins’ Library. During High School he’d made a habit of hiding out at the library for hours on end, sometimes he’d even sneak in food so he could stay longer. His father only approved of Billy being at school, doing after school sports, baby sitting Max, or studying at the library. So Billy had spent a lot of time there.

Billy could still recall with vividness one hot May evening when he’d stepped out of the library’s front doors and saw his father cruise by in his car. Billy had pretended to not to see him, and even though he wasn’t in trouble Billy’s blood had run cold at the sight him.

“Hi Billy. I hear you’re going to be my helper for the day.” Marissa said.

“Yes ma’am.” Billy mumbled.

“Did Father Scott tell you what you’ve been volunteered to do?” Marissa asked.

“No.” Billy said, his eyes cast down.

He didn’t like looking at people, everyone stared at him, they always looked worried, or confused or angry, so he looked at her truck and wished he still had his Camaro.

“We’re just going to stop at about a half dozen houses and pick up donations. We hold a sale and food drive here at the church twice a year, it’s to help people less fortunate. Don’t worry, it’s pretty easy picking up peoples old cast offs, although it can be kind of dirty work.” Marissa asked, “Are you okay with that?”

“S’fine.” Billy said.

“Okay, well…” she said as she opened the passenger door and walked around the nose of the truck, not finishing her sentence, it was obvious to Billy it was time to go for a ride.

Billy climbed in, he adjusted the hood on his head. He’d only been living on the church property for six weeks, and mostly he’d just done grounds keeping and maintenance to pay his rent and earn a little cash for personal use. It wasn’t a great deal, but he couldn’t live on Cherry Lane anymore, his father had made that clear.

Billy wished he could go back to the hospital, or just hitchhike to California and find his mom. He wanted to be mad at Father Scott for volunteering him to help pick up donations, but Marissa seemed okay. Billy exhaled slowly, he was feeling nauseous.

“How do you feel about Johnny Cash?” Marissa asked.

“Okay, I guess.” Billy answered.

“Good.” She turned on the stereo as they bumped along the dirt road and onto the paved highway heading towards the suburban homes that skirted the heart of Hawkins. Billy thought he might throw up.

“How’s Father Scott treating you?” Marissa asked, keeping her eyes on the road.

“Fine.”

“Does he make you start work at six in the morning?”

“No.” Billy furrowed his brows.

“His last handyman said he quit because father Scott tried to run every minute of his waking day, starting at six A.M.” Marissa said conversationally.

“He’s okay.” Billy said.

He rested his forehead on the window and folded his arms and watched the road roll by “ _Fucking Hawkins_.” Billy muttered under his breath.

His cussing was drowned out by Johnny Cash’s singing, or Marissa chose to ignore it.

“I’ve always thought he was a nice man, and I’m not even one of his flock.” Marissa said as she rolled down her driver’s side window letting warm spring air rush in.

Billy nodded and sat silently staring out the passenger window. They cruised past cow pastures, and then Max’s old school and then his the high school. He sank in his seat when they cruised past Hawkins public pool.

**Wednesday Evening, April 30th, 1986** ****

**Old Junk**

“Steve!”

Steve’s father was standing in the doorway, his arms were folded just over his soft belly, his glasses were sliding down his nose.

Steve pulled off his headphones slowly. “Yeah Dad?”

“I need you to come down to the garage.”

“Now?” Steve had only been home for about fifteen minutes, he was listening to Blondie and had been planning on watching M.A.S.H. and getting very, very high, he hadn’t even realized his father was home till just then.

“No, tomorrow.” His father said sarcastically and added “Yes now.”

“Okay.” Steve got up feeling glum.

Steve knew whatever motive his father had for asking him to come down to the garage, had to involve some kind of tedious chore.

“No Wednesday night social at the country club?” Steve asked trailing his father down stairs.

“Yes, of course. It’s always the last Wednesday of every month. Your mother went ahead of me, but I need to make sure this is ready in the morning and I don’t have time.” Richard said irritably, “If she’d told me last weekend I could help you, but now I can’t, so you’re on your own kiddo.”

“What am I doing, exactly?” Steve asked as he stepped into their two car garage.

His father flicked on the lights and pointed at the rafters where boxes were precariously stored. “All the boxes on the right are to come down and be set outside, in front of the garage. Saint Margaret’s Parrish is having one of their charity sale and they’re coming tomorrow.”

“isn’t that all just old junk up there?” Steve said staring at the dust laden boxes.

“One man’s trash, Steve.”

“Is another man’s treasure.” Steve filled in unhappily.

“Exactly.” His father said and patted his shoulder, “I promised your mom it would get done, don’t disappoint her.”

“All the boxes?” Steve was staring up at the rafters, he’d counted at least a dozen so far.

“All the boxes on the right side.” His father said going back inside the house.

“Yeah have a nice time.” Steve sighed, “Just the right side.” He estimated there was roughly 15 boxes up there, so it was going to be at least thirty trips up and down the ladder. He was definitely going to miss M.A.S.H.

********

Steve was making what he hoped would be his final trip up the ladder. Most of the cardboard boxes been fairly light, he’d peaked inside a few and found outdated clothes, musty smelling sport equipment, old toys, some horrible easy listening records and several creased and yellowed paperbacks. After checking three or four boxes he’d lost interest and just wanted to be done with it. The last box was a little bit closer to the center, not quite touching the left side of boxes that were meant to be kept. The box was just a little too far to reach from his perch at the top of the ladder. Steve huffed a breath, feeling frustrated and then hoisted himself onto the rafter instead of climbing down and moving the ladder. The dried wooden beam creaked menacingly under his weight.

“I’m a ninja.” Steve whispered tucking low for better balance.

Steve reached out his hand, his fingertips brushed the dusty top of the box. The tape that held it shut was yellowed, the sides of the box looked near to bursting. He wondered if he grabbed it by the corner if it would fall and split open. He considered knocking it down to the garage floor, but one of the boxes from before had contained old glassware, so he decided against it. Steve scooted sideways closer to the box, feeling more like a crab than a ninja.

“Come here.” Steve said as he stretched out his hand attempting to use his Jedi powers, it didn’t work so after seven seconds he gave up and scooted closer and put his hand firmly on the box top raising a small cloud of dust.

For a second he was looking out on an enormous grey sea beneath a wide sky with white chasing clouds. Thin rays of pewter colored sunbeams were cutting across a stoney shore, shining silver on wet slate colored stones and ash colored sand. The sound of gulls and the fizzing sound of sea foam buzzed all around him followed by the sudden sound of the growl and slap of waves.

Steve leaned forward, overcome with vertigo and swung his arms wildly he was so suddenly transported back to his precarious position on the narrow wooden beam in his garage that he nearly fell off and cracked his head open.

  
“Whoa… whoa… what the hell, what…” Steve glared at the box suspiciously. Logically he knew his hallucination, or or whatever it had been, couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the box, but it had happened the second he’d set his hand on it. He scooted a little closer and read the faded writing on the side of the box.

_C. Harrington’s_

_’68 Scotland Trip:_

_Documents/Souvenirs/Keepsakes_

“Oh shit, this stuff’s as old as I am.” Steve muttered to himself.

Steve sat low on his haunches feeling totally normal again. He decided that he better not take the box down, it was his mom’s stuff and she was always talking about going back Scotland, not to mention he was feeling a bit creeped out and really just wanted to go back in his room and get stoned and forget all about his miserable life for a few hours.

Steve lowered himself onto the ladder and climbed down. All the other boxes were stacked outside the garage like his father had asked. He wiped his hands on his jeans and decided now was the perfect time to heat up some left overs and go hole up in his room before his folks got home. Steve lowered the garage door shutting out the humid evening air. Steve walked back across the garage floor and passed under the box of his mother’s souvenirs. He felt a chill run up his spine. He looked up at it curiously, blinking at the drifting dust motes. He wondered just how many souvenirs and photos were crammed in there, she’d never shown him any of it.

Steve heard the phone ringing in the house and hustled inside, rubbing his palms as he walked together, they felt itchy, he blamed the all dust. He grabbed the phone and tucked it between his ear and shoulder and walked to the sink to wash his hands.

“Hello?” Steve said.

“There you are, hey! So, my mom’s car died. Can you come and you know, gimme a jump?”

“Yeah, uh do you have jumper cables?” Steve was pretty sure there were some in the garage but had zero interest in going in there again.

“Of course!”

“Great. Yeah sure, I can leave in two minutes. Where are you?”

“Um, yeah, well I’m in the parking lot at the Indianapolis Zoo. By the entrance where all the payphones are.”

“Uh.” Steve wanted to ask her why she didn’t call her parents, but then remembered she was probably driving her mom’s car and her father worked the graveyard shift in the E.R. up in Wabash.

“Please?” Robin pleaded.

“Yeah, of course, just um, I think it’s like an hour and a half drive, but I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

“thank you, listen, I really appreciate it and I’ll make it up to you.”

“You bet you will, Harvard.”

“Oh my god do not call me Harvard!”

“Do you want me to come get you?” Steve asked slyly.

“Yes!”

“Okay Harvard, I’m on my way!”

“Steve that makes me sound like a sleazy rich kid!”

“So basically what you thought I was when we were in High School?” Steve teased.

“Yeah, but smart.” Robin said.

“I’m hanging up now.” Steve groaned.

“You’re coming right?!”

Steve sighed exaggeratedly “Yeah yeah, be there as soon as I can.” and hung up the phone.

Steve went upstairs to his room and grabbed his keys wondering what the hell Robin was doing at the Indianapolis Zoo. He ran down stairs and zipped out the front door, as he hopped off the front steps he heard a loud thud come from the garage. He regarded the garage-door, it had sounded like something heavy had fallen.

“Oh shit.” Steve said.

Steve got in his car, Robin was stranded and counting on him, he’d deal with the mess in the garage when he got home.

**Wednesday Night, April 30th, 1986**

**The Parking Lot of the Indianapolis Zoo**

Robin sat lotus on the hood of her mother’s car, the lamps that dotted the Indianapolis Zoo parking lot were just bright enough to read by. Robin turned the creased pages of her book, and reread some of her scrawled notes in the margins. She’d read the Yellow Wallpaper once before but wanted to kill time and a book seemed like the perfect solution. Her mother was always giving her books, the Yellow Wallpaper had been the latest to appear on her pillow, before that it had been The Awakening by Chopin, and before that Sula by Morrison. Robin liked to keep her books on her shelf in the order in which she received them, it drover her father crazy that they weren’t in alphabetical order. Robin set her finger between the pages and realized how much she was going to miss her parents while she was away at college, and Steve too. It was then that the parking lot lights blinked off and she sitting all alone in the dark, miles from home.

Her eyes caught sight of traveling headlights moving towards her from across the parking lot, she smiled recognizing its steady sound of Steve’s BMW. She slid off the side of the hood of the Honda while Steve pulled up and around till their cars were nose to nose.

“Jesus!” Steve exclaimed getting out of the car, “I had just pulled into the lot when all the lights went out. You okay?”

“Yes! I am now. Thanks for coming.” Robin threw her arms around Steve and hugged him tightly.

“You bet!” Steve said squeezing her back.

Steve grabbed a flashlight out of his trunk while Robin grabbed the jumper cables from hers.“I haven’t been here since I was a little kid!” Steve said and pointed his flashlight in the direction of the zoo entrance.

“I think I’ve been here once a year since I was four.” Robin replied.

“Did you like it? I mean coming here, this time?” Steve asked.

“Honestly the older I get the more Zoos depress me.” Robin said setting the clamps carefully into place.

“Yeah I had kind of a bad time when I came here, I think I was six?” Steve frowned.

“What happened?” Robin asked as she set the hood strut into its upright position on the BMW.

“We were at the marine life exhibit and I got really upset.”

“Why? Do you remember?” Robin asked.

“It’s foggy.” Steve shrugged, “I guess I threw a tantrum. Apparently I told my dad that the seals were sad and we needed to take them to the ocean.” Steve said.

“When I was that age I just wanted to take the animals home, you know? Keep a capybara in my bathtub, ride a zebra to school.” Robin adjusted the flashlight beam in one hand and placed the clamps on the battery with the other.

“I remember thinking I’d go stay with them on a beach.” Steve said, “I don’t know I was a weird kid.”

“I think we all were weird kids,” Robin smiled thoughtfully as she spoke,“Maybe one day we’ll all be weird again and then nothing can stop up!” Robin said nudging Steve gently.

“You’re already one hundred percent weird, and I don’t think anyone could stop you from doing anything.” Steve said.

“Aw, thanks dingus.”

“Let’s get bring this thing back from the dead.” Steve said patting the Honda.

********

Steve followed Robin all the way back to Hawkins. The blue Honda bumped along the dimly lit highway ahead of his BMW. Steve fiddled with the dial on the radio, scrolling past a variety of stations, nothing sounded good. Steve gave up and turned off the radio, he hadn’t brought any cassettes with him, he’d taken his box of tapes up to his room to swap them out after work and had forgotten them in his rush to get Robin. He didn’t usually mind driving in silence but then again, he usually didn’t commute outside of Hawkins either.

Steve tried to remember exactly what had happened when he’d been a kid at the zoo. He remembered looking into one of the seal’s large dark eyes and feeling so sad. His mother had bought him a stuffed animal in an attempt to cheer him up. Steve remembered being buckled up in the back of his father’s Cadillac and his mother handing him a toy with looking worried, Steve had felt like maybe she’d understood him in that moment. Steve could still recall the plush seal’s velveteen texture, the smokey grey fabric dotted with charcoal colored spots. He’d kept it on his bed till he was eleven or twelve, he’d named it Seamus, his mother had suggested the name. After a few years he shoved it under the bed, his father had told him he was too old to be sleeping with dolls. Steve idly wondered if Seamus was in his closet or in a box going to the rummage sale, he guessed it was most likely in a landfill somewhere. He turned the radio on again and settled on a gabby sports radio program, he didn’t hear a word that was said, he just needed the noise to drown out his thoughts.

********

Steve pulled up behind Robin in the Buckley’s driveway and got out of his car. She jumped out of her smiling broadly, she punched her fists up in the air making a wide V of her arms, “We made it!” Robin shouted.

“Yeah, we did.” Steve smiled and walked over to her, “Maybe your folks might want to get the battery replaced?”

“I told them, this is like the fourth time it’s died now. I think they’re a little freaked out by my tuition and my mom’s still paying back her student loans from medical school.” Robin shrugged, “I’ll be riding a bike when I live in Cambridge, anyways.”

“Yeah but that’s months away. Well if you need a ride in the mean time, you’ve got my number.” Steve said.

“Hey thanks, I mean it. You’re a great friend Steve.” Robin said as she squeezed his shoulder.

“Well you know, we’ve always got each other’s backs.” Steve said.

“You know it.” Robin said, her smile faltered a little. “Are you okay? You seem, kind of down in the dumps lately.”

“I’m fine, just, I mean, you know.” Steve mutter hesitantly.

“No, I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.” Robin raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“I feel like I owe Billy Hargrove an apology. Is that nuts?” Steve asked.

“I mean, kind of. He never apologized for pulverizing your face.” Robin snorted.

“He didn’t pulverize my face.” Steve countered.

“That’s not what Gumbo said.”Robin laughed.

“Dustin tends to get caught up in the drama, and it was a long time ago, and I don’t even care about that now. We smashed into his car and left him for dead.”

“Are you seriously forgetting he was going to run over Nancy? That there was a two story flesh monster?” Robin’s voice was getting louder.

“No, no, of course not, but he was possessed, just like poor Will had been. Billy didn’t have control, he probably remembers most of it, but he wasn’t in control.”

“He should be thanking you. Can you imagine how he’d feel if he’d succeeded?” Robin folded her arms leaning on the hood her mother’s car.

“It’s complicated.” Steve muttered, “I just want to see him, and talk.”

“It’s not complicated at all. Just go Saint Margarets.” Robin said.

“What if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“Then we’ll know he’s fully recovered and reverted back to being a regular asshole instead of an _inter-dimensionally-possessed-homicidal_ asshole.” Robin said.

“That simple huh?” Steve shook his head.

“It can be.” Robin said.

“I’m gonna go home, I still need to clean up the garage.” Steve said, not wanting to talk about Billy anymore.

“Thanks again, I really mean it.”

“I know, and you’re welcome. See you in the morning, okay?” Steve walked over to his car.

“Yep, see ya.” Robin called after him.

Steve drove home in a daze. He felt extraordinarily tired, and didn’t understand why. Steve’s father’s car was in the driveway. Steve hoped that meant his dad hadn’t seen the box on the garage floor, opening the garage gate would be noisey, so Steve hustled inside the house beelining through the kitchen to get to the garage door.

“Where have you been?” Richard Harrington asked.

“OH _Chri-sstmas!_ ” Steve excalimed, “I didn’t see you there.”

“You left a box smack dab in the middle of the garage floor Steve.” His father said.

“I’m sorry, I got a call from Robin, her car died in Indianapolis, she needed a jump, she was the zoo, some kind of school biology project, she drives her mom’s Honda, and her father works nights at the hospital, so I had to go, and she’s a girl and was all alone stranded, at night.” Steve, drew in a breath, “I was just on my way to get it.” Steve gestured in the direction of the garage.

“I took care of.” His dad said before blowing on a cup of steaming herbal smelling tea. He was in his pajamas looking more tired than cross.

“Oh, thanks.” Steve shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Good night Steve.” His father shook his head, and turned off the kitchen lights leaving Steve in the dark.

“Night.” Steve said.

**Thursday May 1st, 1986**

**Dust and Donations**

They’d stopped at five houses and the bed of the truck was nearly filled up. There were boxes, a scuffed up desk, a wobbly coffee table, a pink floral recliner and a few lumpy bags of clothes. Billy was covered in dust, and cat hair. Marissa put her glasses on and started reading over a list of addresses while sitting behind the wheel of her truck.

The houses in the Loch Nora neighborhood were big, and expensive looking. All the front gardens were manicured, the cars that were parked in the driveways new and waxed to perfection. Billy hadn’t been in that part of town since he’d dated Vicki and that had been short lived. Vicki was boring and complained a lot, and was a girl. Three major strikes against her.

“One more stop and it’s back to the church and time to unload. I hope we don’t run out of space.” Marissa said folding her list.

Billy figured she was thinking out loud more than asking for his input, so he kept his peace. The last house they’d stopped at had donated a hideous pink recliner. Billy was sure that it had enough cat hair on it to build another cat, but he was just grateful he hadn’t been required to talk with the former owner of the chair. At the first three stops the donations had been left on porches and in driveways, but the chair had been inside the donor’s home. A portly and chatty little man had opened the door and appeared beside himself with excitement that Marissa the Head Librarian, was paying him a visit. Billy used her as a human shield and let her do the talking while he wrestled the bulky chair out the front door and into the truck. He’d barely managed not to trip over a large and frightened white cat that had zipped around his ankles.

“Alright,” Marissa said as she started her truck, “Off to the Harringtons.”

“What?” Billy felt like he’d just been sucker-punched.

“The last stop, it’s at the Harringtons, they always donate.” She looked at Billy and adjusted her glasses,“Don’t worry it’ll be a breeze! Catherine always leaves her donations in the driveway. I think it’s to make sure no one comes in and gets her carpets dirty.” Marissa said with a derisive little laugh.

“S’fine.” Billy said sinking into the passenger seat.

Billy considered opening the passenger door and rolling out of the truck and onto the pavement. It would probably hurt less than seeing Steve Harrington looking groomed and preppy in one of his clean little polo shirt, while Billy looked like he’d just crawled out of a garbage can. Billy imagined waving at Steve and saying, ‘Hey sorry I didn’t stay dead, I hate me too.’ Billy toyed with door lock and asked himself what was a little road rash in comparison to total humiliation and seeing someone who hated you? Billy exhaled slowly and closed his eyes against the flashing sunlight that was slicing through the clouds, the strobing was giving him a headache. He clenched his jaw tightly. He reasoned that word might get back to Father Scott if he threw himself out of the librarian’s moving truck, so he folded his arms tightly and decided it was best to stay put.

When they got in front of Steve’s house there was a collection of at least a dozen neatly stacked very dusty boxes, and one that was near to bursting at it seams laid on the ground a few feet away. Billy saw with relief that Steve’s BMW was nowhere in sight.

“Here we are.” Marissa said cutting the engine, “I really hope we can fit all this junk in the back.”

“Only one way to find out.” Billy said as he hopped out of the truck and jogged up the driveway, he started grabbing the dust covered boxes two at a time and hauling them to the back of the truck like he was running a relay race.

“Somebody’s ready to get back to church.” Marissa remarked with a smile as she picked up a box and walked it to the truck bed.

Billy loaded the truck lightning quick, and jumped in the cab and shut himself in. He watched Marissa walk up to the front door to leave a note. He jogged his knees impatiently, it was then that he heard the sound of a car coming up the quiet road. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Steve Harrington pulling up in the driveway to the left of Marissa’s truck. Billy sank down into the footwell of the passenger seat cursing quietly, he couldn’t believe he was hiding, but it was better than having to face Steve Harrington.

“Hey.” Steve called.

Billy flinched when he heard Steve’s car door slam shut.

“Hi, I was just leaving a note for your mom.” Marissa called from the walkway.

“I can give it to her.”

Steve’s voice was growing distant, Billy imagined that he was walking up to meet Marissa at the front door. A few seconds later and Marissa unlocked the driver’s door and looked at Billy’s crammed form in the footwell of the passenger seat, her brow tightened slightly.

“You okay Billy?” Marissa asked softly.

“Fine.” Billy said, not moving.

“Father Scott said you don’t like being around people.” Marissa pulled a cigarette out of her purse, and set it between her teeth, as she spoke “You seemed fine up until a minute ago.” Marissa said conversationally as she go in the truck and buckled up. “Is there anything you want to talk about? Did that Harrington kid give you a hard time in High School? I know it’s not easy being the new person in town.” Marissa spoke softly, she turned off the stereo and reversed the loaded truck down the driveway. “When I came here for the job, I thought I was either going to burn down the library or shoot myself, obviously I didn’t do either, I just adapted. If you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Billy said, not wanting to talk, let alone explain why he was hiding from Steve. “Can I get one of those?” Billy asked as Marissa lit her cigarette.

“You may, if you sit in your seat and buckle up.” Marissa said.

********

Back at Saint Margaret’s Parish Marissa, Billy and Father Scott unloaded the truck into the room where the rummage sale would take place on the following Saturday afternoon. Billy worked hard and fast he didn’t want to have to get dragged into an awkward conversation, and all conversations with Father Scott were awkward.

“Billy, would you mind meeting me here in the morning? I just need some help unboxing and sorting things. I promise it’ll be much easier than what we did today.” Marissa said watching him set down the last box.

“Sure.” Billy said shoving a particularly warped box further into a corner.

It was just then that the tape on the sagging box snapped, books, picture postcards and a plaid beret poured out as well as a partially wrapped rug.

“Ew, what is that?” Marissa bent at the waist staring at the rug.

“Animal skin?” Billy said crouching down and pulling at one of the corners, it was grey and speckled.

“Ugh, It looks like a horse hide. Throw it in the dumpster will you?” Marissa stood up dusting her hands on her hips, “I’m beat.” She looked at Billy thoughtfully, “I’m sure you’re tired too.”

Billy nodded, but was distracted by the books and other debris that had spilled out of the box.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Marissa paused and asked, “Do you like doughnuts?”

Billy stood up with the pelt in his arms, it had been rolled and seemed to slither loose in his arms, he clutched it closer and realized she’d asked a question.

“Doughnuts? Sure.”

“Great, I’ll bring some doughnuts and a coffee for you too, and then we’ll get all this junk sorted out and looking presentable.” Marissa said determinedly. “You know, we’re not in the library, it’s okay to talk.” Marissa smiled at Billy.

“I know.” Billy said.

He knew she trying to get him to loosen up, but he couldn’t focus on what she was saying, he just wanted to get a good look at the skin he was holding. Billy followed Marissa out of the church’s recreation room Marissa was headed towards her truck only to be stopped by Father Scott. Billy could hear the murmur of their voices but didn’t know or care what they were saying. He walked around the back of the church and paused by the dumpster. He looked at the pelt in his hands, it was still partially wrapped in brown butcher paper. He decided he couldn’t throw it out, not yet at least. He turned sharply and walked down a small path that led to the groundkeeper’s cottage, where he was staying.

The Groundkeeper’s Cottage was a very small, sparsely furnished studio apartment. Billy called it his cell, after all, he was rather Monk like in his day to day life now. He spent most of his time in quiet contemplation, or rather trying not to contemplate. Billy, without the distractions of booze, loud music, and sycophants, was very bad at not thinking.

Billy shut the heavy wooden door to his place and drew the thin curtains closed. He didn’t think Marissa or Father Scott would care if he kept the horse hide, or whatever it was, but felt guilty not throwing it away like she had asked him to. Billy peered out at the back of the church one more time and then shut the curtains again.He told himself to stop being paranoid, he was jittery, he felt like he’d drank a gallon of coffee and didn’t know why. He told himself he wasn’t stealing, he wasn’t doing anything wrong, no one was watching him. Billy was on the cusp of a panic attack, and what he hated most about it was that he knew it was happening, and yet he wasn’t able to stop it.

Billy shook loose the pelt, unfurling it across his narrow bed. He stared at it, making out was once the head of the animal, by the two eye holes. The skin was shaped like an aspen leaf, a very round oval, he’d never seen anything like it. Billy ran his hand along the animal hide and saw that his fingers were trembling. Marissa had suggested it was a horse skin, but she’d been wrong. He sat on the edge of his bed, moving his hands over it the thick soft fur, the sheen was brilliant and silvery - it didn’t look like it had been tucked away in a musty old box for months or years it felt fresh and clean to the touch, it felt, alive.

Billy stood up and went to the his closet sized bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet to retrieve his hair brush. He sat on the bed and ran the brush over the fur slowly in long even strokes. The fur shone like polished pewter, it had mottled quality with black inky spots, he wondered if it was valuable. He thought about selling it for a split second, and then changed his mind. It was beautiful, and it was his. Running the brush over the fur had calmed him down, almost like magic the pending panic attack had been evaporated.

That night when Billy went to bed he climbed under his sheets and rested the pelt on top, his thumb and index finger gently worrying a corner of it. He liked the weight of it. As he drifted off to sleep he had the fleeting thought that he felt less alone laying beneath it.

**Friday May 2nd, 1986**

**Harrington Household**

Steve rolled over on his side, his eyes fluttered open, he could hear his father’s alarm clock beeping from his parents’ bedroom. Steve’s cock was hard, and he grunted out of frustration as he slid his hand under the blankets. He’d been dreaming. Steve shut his eyes, his mouth was dry, he swallowed and then placed one of his pillows over his face. He tried to shut out the world and focus on the dwindling memory of the dream, he’d been holding onto a boy, but not just any boy, he’d been wrapped around Billy Hargrove. Steve chased the fading dream, it was vanishing like rain drops on hot summer concrete. Steve distinctly recalled pulling gently on a coil of Billy’s bronze colored locks and running his thumb over his full lips. Steve ran his thumb across his own bottom lip and felt a pang like hunger in his gut, but it wasn’t the kind of appetite that could be sated by food.

After jerking off Steve shut his eyes and hoped he’d fall back asleep and dream of Billy again. It wasn’t the first time he’d dreamt about him, but it had been the most visceral so far. In the dream Billy had walked into Scoops, and Steve had been in the back room, alone, he’d tried to tell Billy about the Russians, but every time he tried to speak his words had come out all wrong, and Billy had just shaken his head, indicating he didn’t understand, but he wasn’t mad, he kept saying _I’m not mad_ , and took Steve’s hands and pulled him close. Then there’d been a bed and Steve was draped across Billy, they’d kissed and rutted against each other, and suddenly they were in a house near the beach, with no wall facing the sea, the sound of the ocean and a salty breeze was flowing around them, and then his father’s alarm clock had gone off and ruined Steve’s dream.

**Friday May 2nd, 1986**

**Saint Margaret’s Parish**

Billy unlocked the recreation room and stuffed the keys in his pocket. He’d been up since four in the morning, and was glad that it was finally eight. Soon Marissa would arrive and provide busy work for him. He walked in and turned on the lights and looked at the boxes of donations. Billy, in need of distraction from his racing mind, started cutting open the boxes, as well as untying the knotted trash bags that held donated clothing. 

He’d slept pretty solid most of the night, which was unusual. He’d awakened around four in the morning, when a nearby farm rooster hadcock-o-doodle-dooed like something out of _Green Acres._ Billy had awoken in a haze, ran his palm across the fur and remembered he’d been dreaming about Steve Harrington. Billy’s cock had been rock hard, bordering on painful. It was the first erection Billy had had since leaving the hospital and quitting his medication.

“Good morning, sorry I’m a bit late.” Marissa said as she entered the room.

“Hey.” Billy muttered.

“Doughnuts and coffee as promised.” Marissa said setting down a box on the counter.

“It’s not pink.” Billy said.

“What?” Marissa looked at Billy curiously.

“Nothing.” Billy said quickl, and then added “The box, isn’t pink.” Billy mumbled feeling silly for being disappointed that the box wasn’t pink.

“Ah, you grew up on the west coast then?” Marissa guessed.

“Yeah?” Billy looked at her curiously.

“I went to UCLA. Living in Los Angeles, is where I saw my first pink doughnut boxes, I thought they were so cute.” Marissa said as she set down the box of sweets.

“Grew up in San Diego.” Billy said, and it was then that he remembered in his dream he’d been on the beach with Harrington, the sun had just set and they were on a beach towel laying with their legs knit tightly, his hands in Steve’s hair.

“I actually miss L.A., it was so, busy and full of life and weirdos, but also dirty and the smog. Oh my god, the smog.” Marissa rambled.

“Uh-huh.” Billy murmured in response.

Billy was trying to remember more from the dream, they’d been kissing and Steve had reached into Billy’s trunks and had been working his cock. Billy cleared his throat and threw a bag of donated clothes on a table, his cheeks were burning the memory of Steve’s hand, he could feel his balls tighten as he thought about it.

“Are you doing okay?” Marissa asked.

“Yeah.” Billy said.

“Good, come get your coffee, and for the love of god eat some of these doughnuts, or I’ll eat them all.” Marissa said matter of factly.

After inhaling a couple doughnuts Billy began unpacking all the donations while Marissa sorted and set them on their designated tables. The work was easy and mindless, Billy’s thoughts kept wandering back to Steve, back to the dream, the two of them laying on the beach, the memory was so vivid, it felt real.

“You’re sighing an awful lot, we’ll break for lunch soon.” Marissa said.

“What? No this is easy.” Billy said blushing again.

“Okay.” Marissa said sounding amused.

Billy put a stack of paperbacks on the book table and went back to the unsorted mess. There was a soft knock at the entrance of the recreation room. Billy glanced over and saw Robin’s lanky figure. He recognized her instantly. The band geek that was friends with Steve, he’d seen the two of them outside of Family Video. She dressed like she didn’t know how hot she was, or didn’t care. Billy looked at her from her messy pony tail down to her doodled on Chucks.

“Hi, I have some donations.” Robin stepped in as she spoke with a bag under one arm and some shoe boxes tied together with string.

Billy moved away from the entrance and looked at Marissa.

“Oh, thanks Robin, How’s Dr. Buckley?” Marissa walked over and unloaded Robin’s arms.

“She’s great, yeah and Dad’s almost done with his residency, he’ll be a doctor too come August.” Robin said.

“His residency is almost done? Oh that’s great, I remember you were just starting high school, oh my god are you graduating too?” Marissa asked excitedly.

“Yeah, I got into Harvard! Can you believe it?” Robin laughed happily.

Billy made a point of not looking at them, but listened intently while he opened more boxes of donations. No one had given a shit when he’d graduated. Billy hadn’t bothered with applying to any colleges, he didn’t have money for tuition and his father sure as hell wasn’t going to foot the bill. Billy wondered what that felt like, to get a letter of acceptance from some hoity-toity ivy league school. The only letters he got were from recruiters to the Army, Navy and the Marines. Of course that had been before he died, now that he was back from the dead he didn’t get any mail, unless his dad was just tossing it all in the trash.

Billy ducked out a side door while they were chatting, he figured a cigarette break and a coke were in order. Outside he squinted at the pale light, the sky was blanketed in hazy thin silvery clouds, they reminded him of the skin on his bed. He went into his little cottage and sat on the bed, he stroked the fur studying it, he drew a breath, having a when he realized it was a seal skin. The shape of it made more sense to him now that he’d figured that out. He stroked the short velvety fur then laid back on top of it.

He lit up a cigarette, hoping Marissa was too busy yakking it up with Robin to come looking for him. As he lay there he wondered if Robin and Steve were a thing. Max had mentioned Robin a few times, she’d always referred to Robin as Steve’s friend. Max was pretty good at knowing when people were more than friends, still, Billy thought, things change. Maybe Robin and Steve were boning. Then again he couldn’t imagine a girl that was going to go to Harvard falling for a jock like Steve, even if he was kind of a popular rich kid. Steve did have somethings going for him, he was good looking, charismatic and a huge dick. Billy groaned loudly and forced himself back on his feet. He decided to go back to the recreational room and get more work done. It had to be less painful than laying around thinking about Steve.

“There you are, I’m going to go pick up lunch. How do you feel about cheeseburgers?”

“Good.” Billy said.

“Okay, do you want fries?”

“Yes,” Billy paused, and added ”Please.”

“Okay, can you unpack and sort things while I’m gone? Also more people may stop by to drop things off while I’m gone, but I’ll be quick. I think we’ll be done before three.” Marissa picked up her purse watching Billy listlessly unpack a box.

“Do you want Father Scott to help while I’m gone? He’d be a great buffer if someone shows up.” Marissa lingered in the doorway watching Billy.

“No, it’s fine.” Billy said quickly.

“You know if you see anything you need, for your place, just take it, okay?” Marissa said.

“Really?” Billy asked suspiciously.

“Yes, really.” Marissa said, “Back soon.”

Billy didn’t need much but he went over to the clothing table and picked out a couple white t-shirts that looked like they were never worn. He set them aside and went back to unpacking and sorting. Someone had donated a small TV, Billy set it on the table where other outdated electronics were on display but when he saw the VCR, Billy grabbed it and the TV and carried them with the t-shirts back to his little house and set them down. His heart started racing and he felt like he was going to get in trouble, but he reminded himself that Marissa said he could take anything he needed. Billy’s father had thrown out all of his music, and his stereo, most of his things were long gone.

Thinking about his father wasn’t something Billy wanted to do, he took comfort in knowing that he’d never come here. Billy’s mom had been the Catholic in the family, Neil only went to churches on Christmas Day and Easter Sunday. Billy puffed out a breath, trying to shake off his anxiety and went back to work.

By the time Marissa got back Billy had unpacked everything and was sorting the used books by genre because it seemed easier than sorting and folding the mountain of donated clothes.

“Whoa, looks good! Are you ready to eat?” Marissa was beaming at Billy.

“Yeah.” Billy said, still feeling anxious about taking things, “It was easy.”

“You’re a hard worker Billy. Father Scot’s really lucky to have you here. What’s he paying you?” Marissa asked.

Her tone was innocent, but Billy had a feeling she was up to something. Billy sat with Marissa at what would become the cashiers table the next day during the rummage sale and they ate lunch. Marissa talked easily about everything and anything, she didn’t prod him to speak. She was knowledgeable without being a know it all. Billy was starting to think Marissa might be okay.

**Saturday Night, May 3rd, 1986**

**Family Video**

Steve shoved a tape into the VCR and hit the rewind button. He leaned on the counter and watched the handful of Saturday night stragglers browsing the aisles. He hated closing on Saturdays, it reminded him of how much he didn’t have a life. Keith lumbered around the counter and handed Steve a flier. Steve took it and looked at the bright green paper.

Palace Arcade now recruiting their first small business baseball team!

_“_ You’re good at sports.” Keith told Steve as if he wasn’t aware of that fact.

“Yeah, but we work at Family Video.” Steve said frowning looking up at Keith.

“It’s sponsored by Palace Arcade, but it’s for all the local business employees. There’s going to be a cash prize for the winning team.” Keith said. “Melvald’s is going to have a team, and the Hawk movie theater and the Hawkins Post.”

“Okay, like how much cash?” Steve asked.

“Eight hundred bucks to the winning team.” Keith nodded.

Steve nodded, “So about Eighty bucks per person, if the team is only nine players and we don’t count the coach, because there’s always a coach, but there might just be a team captain, and that only if we have the winning team. I’m guessing we pay for our own cleats and gloves, of course, and then there’s the cost of gas, you know to get to practice and the games,” Steve handed the flier back to Keith, “I don’t want to play. I’d be spending at least forty bucks and then if my team doesn’t win I’d lose money and even if we did win, it wouldn’t be worth it."

“If we won we’d have the glory of winning! Where’s your sense of community spirit Harrington? Did you see the flier says co-ed teams!” Keith tapped the flier rapidly.

“I’m not interested. It’s just going to be a bunch of drunk angry dads yelling at each other and trying to relive their glory days from when they were in high school.” Steve turned his back on Keith, suddenly wondering if that was going to be him in few years. Playing on city teams just to feel like he was good at something again, a part of something other than one of the losers employed at Family Video with no future.

“Very disappointed.” Keith said.

“Pfft, get in line.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Hey, whatcha got there?” Robin came behind the counter she was sliding her vest back on.

Keith handed her the flier.

Robin read the flier and made a face like she smelled something bad. “Baseball, uh, no thanks.”

“I assumed you’d say that Buckley, but I’m sorely disappointed in your friend Harrington.” Keith pointed at Steve as he shook his finger before turning dramatically to walk to the backroom. “Good night Buckley.” Keith said making sure to omit Steve from the sentiment.

“You don’t want to play? Says there’s a cash prize for the winning team, could be fun.” Robin read over the flier.

“No.” Steve said as he sat heavily on the stool behind the counter.

“What’s going on?” Robin nudged him gently.

“Nothing, just tired.” Steve said.

“Hmm.” Robin said.

Steve recognized that hmm, it meant she didn’t believe him.

“You’re never gonna guess who I saw yesterday.” Robin said.

“Who?” Steve asked, “If you say Tammy Thompson I’m going to hurl.”

“No, and be nice. I saw Billy.”

“What, you saw Hargrove? Where? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Steve looked like a kid that just missed the ice-cream truck.

“Well, I was going to earlier, but Keith’s been around and you know, we can’t talk about _certain_ things around him.” Robin explained, “So I’ve been waiting for him to clock out.”

“I get that.” Steve nodded, “So where was he? Did you talk to him? What did he say?”

“Well, I was taking stuff to that rummage sale, the one you told me your mom was donating to, and he was there with Marissa!”

“Wait, who’s Marissa?” Steve’s brow knotted.

“Uh, the Head Librarian, she’s been working there for like almost decade. Do you seriously not know the librarian’s name?”

“Oh, yeah, right. Marissa.” Steve shrugged, “So what did he say?”

“He didn’t say anything, he was just moving stuff around and I was talking to Marissa, and then I was about to say hello to Billy but he was gone, he just vanished.”

“Where’d he go?”

  
“I don’t know. He just slipped out while we were catching up.”

“How’d he look?” Steve asked.

“Fine I guess, I mean I barely saw him, maybe a little pale, I mean last time we saw him he was really kind of sickly looking. So, I guess better.” Robin frowned.

“No, but, did he seem okay?” Steve ran his hand over his head pushing his hair back.

“I don’t know, he didn’t really look at me. Do you think he’s dangerous or something?” Robin looked at Steve curiously. “I mean, he just looked a little, thinner I guess, like diminished?”

“Diminished?!”

“You know, like wiped out, like he needs vitamins and a hug or something.” Robin threw up her hands, “Why are you so curious, Why don’t you just go see him yourself?”

“What? No. I was just, you know Max hasn’t been by and it seems like he was just released from the,” Steve glanced around the empty shop and whispered “ _secret military hospital_.” Steve puffed out a breath of air, “I can’t go see him, what am I gonna say, ‘Hey man, sorry I rammed into you with a stolen car, I was trying to save lives and stuff, accidentally left you there to die, but hey thanks for saving the kids!’, yeah, that’ll go over like gangbusters!” Steve said sarcastically.

“You’re being weird. You said you want to talk to him, so go talk to him. I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with Billy Hargrove.”

“Oh, shut up! That’s ridiculous.” Steve waved his hand, “Can’t I just be curious, I mean he’s one of the few people in this world that was actually there. I don’t think he knew about the Russians, but you know, he was there.” Steve leaned on the counter, “I’ve never been obsessed with anyone, never… just, no way.” Steve slapped the counter meaningfully.

“Oh-kay.” Robin side eyed Steve. “Well anyways, he’s working at Saint Margaret’s Parrish as you know,and Marissa said he lives in the caretaker’s cottage.” Robin checked her watch, wondering why the last hour always seemed to drag on forever.

“I had a dream about him.” Steve said softly.

“Oh, did you have a mall nightmare? I had another one last week too. Man just when you think they’ve finally stopped.” Robin frowned.

“I…” Steve started to say, ‘I dreamt we were at the beach’, but he didn’t know if he was really ready to talk about what they’d been doing at the beach in his dream. Just thinking about Billy made his heart pound, it was like something had changed, he felt like he needed to see him, talk to him, or just be near him.

“I, what?” Robin looked at Steve quizzically.

“I… might feel better if I see him in person, I guess.” Steve mumbled.

“I know dingus.” Robin said.

**_(Earlier that Day)_ **

**_Saturday Afternoon, May 3rd, 1986_ **

**_Saint Margaret’s Parish_ **

“I think that was a success, we made close to seven hundred dollars, and got seventy-eight cans for the food drive.” Marissa said closing the cash box. “I wasn’t expecting you to come by. I figured all the people, you know,they’re not your cup of tea.”

“They’re not. Thought you might need help cleaning up.” Billy stood in the door way, he’d waited until the last car had pulled out of the parking lot before walking into the recreation room.

“Well, yes and thanks. Do you mind loading the canned food into the locker there, and then boxing up the books, unless they’re missing covers or pages, those can go in the trash.” Marissa walked over to the pile of clothes that had been picked over, “You know those people nickled and dimed me all day, as if they didn’t know the money is going to a good cause.”

Billy grunted in response, he wanted to say they were a bunch of cheap small town trash, but he didn’t think it would go over too well. He didn’t want her to think he hated everyone, but most days he kind of did. He stacked up some battered romance paperbacks and put them in a box, and then a handful of mysteries. He found a book on folklore, and a worn copy of The 13 Clocks by James Thurber, he set them aside and looked over his shoulder, Marissa wasn’t paying attention, he thought about taking them but changed his mind.

Billy set down three quarters on the table where Marissa was folding the remaining garments. “The sign said paperbacks for a quarter and hardcovers for fifty-cents.”

“You can just have them.” Marissa said smiling.

“It’s for a good cause.” Billy said, and went back to packing the books.

“You’re a good kid, Billy.”

“I’m _not_ a kid.” Billy grumbled.

“Fine, you’re a good man.” Marissa said with a gentle laugh.

Billy didn’t feel like a good anything, but he held his tongue. Billy and Marissa made quick work of the clean up. He loaded her truck with the bagged clothing she’d neatly folded, and the boxes of remaining bric-a-brac and books. After she drove off Billy folded up the tables and swept the floors. As he swept he wondered what Steve was up to, if he was working at Family Video tonight, or at home, or out with friends, or a date with a girl. Billy had set up the TV and VCR in his one room home the previous night. He wasn’t even sure if the VCR worked, but he was planning on renting a video from Steve on Sunday, he was pretty sure Max had said he worked on Sundays.

Billy grabbed his two used books and locked up the recreational hall. He walked out to the cemetery and had a cigarette while trying to think of things to say to Steve. Every phrase he thought of sounded too normal, or too formal, or too lame. He sat leaning against Hogarth’s headstone thinking about Steve and watched the grave-markers’ shadows stretch across the brittle grass as the sun started to slip down the sky and settle behind the trees.

**_Sunday Morning, May 4th, 1986_ **

**_Saint Margaret’s Parish_ **

When Billy awoke he was disappointed he couldn’t remember his dreams, he knew he’d dreamt of Steve. He sighed under his thin cotton sheet, and the pleasantly heavy weight of the sealskin on top of that. He had an hour before he was expected to sit in a two hour mass. He didn’t mind going to mass, he hadn’t done it since he was a little boy. He could still remember sitting beside his mother, her rosary beads twisted around one of his wrists. Now he would sit all the way in the back in the balcony alone, while others were lost in their own spiritual pursuits Billy often read. The sound of soft spring rain falling on the roof made him reluctant to get up, but he did. He was a little sore from the week’s manual labor, but it was also good to feel his muscles coming back. He grabbed one of the books he’d gotten from the rummage sale and placed it next to the door so he wouldn’t forget it on his way to church.

**_Sunday Morning, May 4th, 1986_ **

**_Harringrove Household_ **

Steve rolled over and looked at the glowing red numbers on his digital alarm clock, he had no idea why he’d awoken at seven in the morning on a Sunday. He did have work but he didn’t need to leave for several hours. He yawned and rubbed his eyes sleepily. He had that feeling like he’d just lost the thread of a dream. He threw back his warm down comforter and considered going downstairs, he was feeling peckish. He wondered what Billy was eating for breakfast, the thought came out of nowhere. But he did wonder, what was Billy doing now? Did he like working at a church? Steve pulled back the blinds and watched the rainwater dancing on the surface of the pool in the backyard, he rested his forehead on the window. Too much, he thought, he was thinking about Billy way too much.

**_Sunday Evening, May 4th, 1986_ **

**_Family Video_ **

Sunday nights were always slow. The music playing on the overhead speakers was a selection of top forty pop songs. Steve hummed along as he pushed a cart of videos across the sales floor. One of the cart’s wheels squeaked horribly as he took a turn from the comedy aisle into the horror section. The rainy morning had turned into a beautiful blue sky kind of day, and as it transitioned into dusk Steve regretted being employed.

Steve day dreamed of lying on a wide sandy beach with white pale sand and watching sparkling foamy waves lick at the shore. He’d never actually spent time on what he considered to be a real beach, one that was on the edge of the sea, lake beaches just didn’t seem as magical. Some part of him believed an ocean beach, with salt water waves was the kind of place he could really be happy. He wondered if Billy missed the beach, he also wondered why it seemed like every other thought led to Billy.

Steve grabbed a few videos off the cart and placed them on the shelves careful to keep them in alphabetical order. He reorganized a few tapes that had been left in disarray by thoughtless browsers. “People are such slobs.”Steve griped to himself.

“Hey, Harrington.”

Steve looked up instantly recognizing Billy’s low voice. “Billy!” Steve uttered, followed by a softer “Hey.”

Billy had on a denim jacket and underneath that a black hooded sweater. He was also wearing a ball cap pulled low, his bright blue eyes flashed briefly as he caught Steve’s gaze.

Steve’s eye’s locked on a thumbprint sized scar on the crest of Billy’s right cheekbone, the skin was raised and pale, the scar looked like a pink rose petal. Steve blinked and looked at Billy’s eyes again, but he’d lingered too long on the scar and now Billy was looking away. Steve took a half step forward and then stopped himself, he didn’t want to crowd Billy, but at the same time he wanted to be closer to him. 

“Nice vest.” Billy said.

“Yeah, really cool right?” Steve pulled at the waist of his green Family Video Vest and turned sideways as if modeling it for Billy. He watched the corner of Billy’s mouth twitch a fraction and felt an absurd amount of pride for almost making him smile.

“The coolest.” Billy said sarcastically as he side eyed Steve.

Steve folded his arms, now that Billy was finally standing in front of him, after so many nights of thinking of him, Steve was at a loss for words.

“I’d heard you were back form Max, I… I’m glad you’re okay, you know?”

“Yeah, being dead was… overrated.” Billy mumbled.

Steve was one of the few people that really knew what had happened, and just being able to say that made Billy feel instantly and very strangely closer to Steve.

“Oh, yeah, seems like it would be so boring, like deadsville.” Steve said.

Billy snorted, it wasn’t quite a laugh, but Steve counted it as another win. Steve watched as Billy turned away, his expressive eyes peering left and right, he looked nervous to Steve. Steve took it in, the old Billy was bold, moved like a big cat, back from the dead Billy looked more a hare on the side of the road, alert and ready to bolt.

“Are you looking for a movie?” Steve asked, for something to say.

“No, I was looking for prom dress.” Billy replied, he shifted his weight on his feet and then asked “So what d’you recommend?”

“Uh, well, what do you like?” Steve asked stepping a little closer.

Billy had been loitering outside for nearly an hour and now that he’d finally managed to walk into Family Video he couldn’t believe he was standing nearly right in front of Steve Harrington. They were standing so close he could smell peppermint on Steve’s breath. Billy’s heart was beating so hard he could feel his pulse jumping in on the side of his throat. Billy ran a hand over the side of his neck.

“Recommend something, impress me.” Billy said with as much bravado as he could muster.

“Okay.” Steve looked at his cart to see what was on it. He knew this wasn’t the kind of game he was likely to win, but if it kept Billy talking to him he was going to play along, for as long as he could.

“Alright, alright, I know you’re gonna love this,” Steve pulled a box off the cart, “Oh and this too,” He waggled his head a little, “and… if I might be so bold,” Steve walked around to the other side of the cart and crouched down, “a little action adventure, ah, here we are.” Steve held out a stack of videos for Billy to take.

Billy turned them sideways and read off the spines, “This is Spinal Tap, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, and Amadeus.”

“It’s the perfect line up for three nights of entertainment.” Steve said in his best salesman voice.

“I get why you picked Spinal Tap,” Billy pointed at him, but what’s up with Amadeus?”

“Uh, well it’s the story of Mozart, and how this other guy had it out for him, and he’s, Mozart, well his wife calls him Wolfie, most of his friends call him Wolfgang, anyways, his wife, she’s really cute, um, yeah… his dad’s a total asshole, and the king hates ballet, and everyone is trying to tell him what to do, and while all this is happening, Salieri, the guy that hates him, Mozart, he’s a rival composer and he’s trying to sabotage him, and even pretends to be his friend when the whole time he’s out to get him, because God played favorites or at least that’s what Salieri thinks…” Steve took in a breath, Billy was squinting at him. “It’s really nuts.” Steve shook his head.

“So you’ve actually seen it.” Billy asked skeptically.

“Yeah, twice. It’s really good.”

Billy nodded, he looked at video box of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, and pursed his lips, looking doubtful.

“Okay, Okay. I already know what you’re thinking, Temple of Doom, not the best follow up you’ve ever seen, but it has Harrison Ford and he’s so cool, and it’s the complete escape, the bad guys loose, he saves the girl, it’s great.”

“I’ve never seen it.” Billy handed it back to Steve, “I like Spinal Tap and Amadeus, two outta three, not bad.”

“Are you telling me you don’t like Harrison Ford?” Steve challenged playfully.

“Maybe I’m just not in the mood.” Billy said.

Steve looked down at the cart and grabbed another tape.

“Okay, this one. This is the one to balance out your triple feature.” Steve said, “I know it’s an oldie, but it’s the best.” Steve handed the tape to Billy.

“The Secret Life of Walter Mitty?” Billy said looking at the title.

“Yeah!” Steve said enthusiastically.

Billy blinked at the tape, it was one of his favorites, he loved Danny Kaye, he’d watched all of his movies when they were on TV when Billy was little, usually on Saturday afternoons with his mom. “You know it’s based on a short story by James Thurber.” Billy said.

“No, I didn’t. Is that a good thing?” Steve asked genuinely curious.

“You’re pretty good at this.” Billy looked at the tapes in his hand, but didn’t want to go to the counter just yet.

Steve suppressed a grin, Billy was actually being nice. Steve’s heart fluttered in his chest. He looked around the shop, Robin was helping a customer, otherwise it was pretty dead.

“You know we also carry an assortment of candy, if you like that sort of thing, when you’re watching a movie.” Steveswept his arm out gesturing at the counter where the candy was displayed.

“You’re a regular Vanna White.” Billy snorted walking beside Steve to the counter. Billy looked at the candy. He knew he was going to spend more than he’d intended, he’d planned on renting one film, so he could come back sooner, but now he had three and he wasn’t going to disappoint Steve by not buying candy.

Steve leaned on the counter watching Billy eye the candy selection. The baseball cap was obscuring Steve’s view of Billy’s eyes and he hated it, but it also gave him a way to check Billy out with out him noticing. Steve watched Billy pluck a half dozen cherry flavored Blow-Pops out of a jar, and then a box of Red Vines, his fingers lingered over the chocolates, then he selected two Snickers bars. Steve had forgotten the shape of Billy’s hands, it was strange to see his fingers ringless. Billy’s fingers looked strong and rough, compact and capable. Steve hadn’t ever really checked out a guys hands, but he found that looking at Billy’s made him feel things.

“You gonna ring me up?” Billy asked.

“Yeah, of course.” Steve peered past Billy and saw that Robin was talking to one of her school band friends. He took the candy from Billy’s hands and then reached out and pulled the front of Billy’s denim jacket gently open.

Billy’s eyes dropped and he felt his breath coming short, he didn’t know what Steve was up to but no one had come that close to him in a while, in the past Billy would have grabbed Steve’s wrist, or dislocated one of his fingers for touching his jacket, but in this moment all Billy could do was stand a little straighter and watch as Steve put the lollipops in the inside pockets of his jacket, the Snickers bars in the front of his pouch of his hoodie, and lastly slide the box of Red Vines into the opposite interior pocket of his jacket. Steve was standing so close to Billy that he could smell his shampoo, the familiar scent reminded Billy of being naked in the showers at high school, talking shit and forcing himself not to keep staring at Steve’s big dick.

“Friends and Family discount.” Steve said softly pulling the front of Billy’s jacket closed.

“Thanks.” Billy said breathlessly.

Steve lifted his head and looked Billy in the eyes, if he were to stand any closer he’d bump his head on the bill of the ball cap Billy was wearing.

“It feels like…” Steve started to say, but stopped short when her heard the doors of the shop chime, he glanced over and Robin’s friend was leaving, he stepped back and went behind the counter.

“So when do I have to bring these back?” Billy said, glancing in Robin’s direction, he took out his wallet and watched Steve’s hands as he scanned the VHS boxes.

“You get four nights when you check out three movies.” Steve said as he put the videos in a bag.

“Hi Billy.” Robin said, “Nice to see you again.” Robin walked behind the counter and Billy watched her glance at Steve’s face as if trying to gage the situation.

“Hey.” Billy murmured.

Billy was suddenly aware how easy it was to talk to Steve, maybe not quite like before, Billy didn’t feel like he was being pitied when Steve looked at him. Some people looked at Billy like he was dangerous, or suspicious. The way Robin was checking in on Steve, made Billy feel like she didn’t think should be there, or at the very least didn’t trust him. Not that Billy thought she had any reason to, she probably knew all about their big fight. Everyone that went to Hawkins that year did.

Billy handed Steve some cash, he lifted his chin a bit, trying to catch Steve’s expression, he saw Steve’s mouth twitch a little smile.

“I really hope you like them.” Steve said softly.

Billy compressed his lips and nodded and took his change. “Night.” He managed to say before turning and walking out of Family video, with pockets full of candy, three videos and his cheeks burning.

****

“That was kind of intense.” Robin said.

Steve watched Billy go out the door and turn in the direction of the Palace Arcade. Steve doubted that Billy was going to go play a few video games. “Do you think he’s walking all the way to Saint Margrets?” Steve felt kind of sick watching him walk away, like he needed to stop him, or go with him.

“I guess? I don’t know, maybe he’s taking the bus?” Robin looked at her watch, “Scratch that, it’s Sunday, the buses stop at eight.

“Hold on a sec.” Steve said, he cleared the counter and ran out the front door.

Robin watched, her mouth opened slightly, “Uh, okay, sure. I’ll just close up by myself. Goddamnit dingus.”

****

Billy was walking at a pretty good clip, it was a long walk back to Saint Margaret’s but he didn’t mind, he had enough nervous energy to light up all of Hawkins after talking to Steve. He heard the slapping of tennis shoes coming up behind him and turned quickly to face whoever was coming at him.

“Hey, hold up.” Steve slowed down and then and stepped in front of Billy.

Billy looked at Steve expectantly, all the while resisting the urge to smile at him. Billy hadn’t expected Steve to follow him out of the shop, let alone run half a block to catch up with him.

“Where’re you going?” Steve asked.

“Why?” Billy knew he sounded defensive.

“Because, I’m off at nine, and I could give you a ride. If you want.” Steve folded his arms, and then unfolded them and slid his hands in his pockets.

“Nine, huh?” Billy glanced at his watch and then looked down at Steve’s feet. Steve was rocking lightly on his feet, and Billy realized that Steve was nervous. Billy lifted his head and tilted it looking into Steve’s eyes and nodded.

“Yeah?” Steve said his eye looked inky in the twilight.

“Sure, I’ll take a ride.” Billy shrugged.

“Great.” Steve dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his car keys, he tossed them at Billy. “Just wait in the car for me, Steve pointed across the lot to where his BMW was parked under the Palace Arcade sign. You can listen to the radio if you want. I’ll be out in about ten minutes or so, it’ll be quick.” Steve said as he turned and jogged back to the shop.

Billy looked down at the keys in his hand. Never in a million years would he have ever guessed that Steve would trust him enough to hand him his keys. He smiled down at the worn key ring, it had a metal personalized key chain charm with the initials S.H. engraved on one side and the BMW logo on the other. “Mister silver-spoon.” Billy chuckled and walked over to Steve’s car, feeling his cheeks ache, he wasn’t used to smiling so much.

********

“What was that about?” Robin asked as Steve stepped back into the shop.

“I thought he might want a ride home.” Steve said as he flipped the closed sign.

“Steve we still have another fifteen minutes.” Robin said watching him turn off the window display lights.

“Aw come on Buckley! It’s dead. Billy was the last customer, and before him was that girl from band. What’s a few minutes?”

Robin rolled her eyes, but then skipped over to the front door and locked it.

“That’s the spirit!” Steve walked by her and they exchanged a satisfying high-five.

“So you and Billy, you guys are friends now?” Robin asked.

“I don’t know, we could be.”

“I’m proud of you Steve. I don’t know that I could forgive someone after a fight like you two had.”

“Guys fight all the time.” Steve said.

Robin made a small sound in the back of her throat and nodded.

“It was a crazy night, I doubt he really remembers it all that well.” Steve said casually.

“He’s not that one that had a platter smashed over his head.” Robin said.

“It was just a little dinner plate.” Steve said quickly.

“You said yourself that your face hurt for two months!” Robin gave him a grave look.

“That’s all in the past.” Steve said as he shrugged out of his green work vest.

Robin nodded counting down the cash drawer. “ You deserve a sainthood or something, Saint Harrington of Hawkins, it sounds pretty good.”

“It’s not a miracle for guys to be friends after a fight.” Steve said.

One of these days I’m going to figure out boys,they’re so weird, like…”

“Like what?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Like weird dumb exotic animals. I can see the appeal, but I’d never want one.” Robin said earnestly.

********

Outside under the glow of the Palace Arcade sign Billy leaned on Steve’s car and lit a cigarette. He took a long drag and exhaled slowly as he watched Steve and Robin through the storefront windows. He felt weirdly energized by Steve, especially after noticing that Steve seemed a little nervous. Billy tilted his head up and looked at stars, his usual sense of pending doom seemed further in the back of his mind than normal.

By the time Billy had dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with the toe of his boot Steve was walking towards him.

“Hey!” Steve said, he was smiling broadly, as if he hadn’t seen Billy in days and they were the closest of friends.

“Hey.” Billy replied.

“You could have waited in the car.”

“It’s a nice night.” Billy said simply as he walked around to the passenger seat and let himself in.

As Steve settled into the driver’s seat Billy handed him his keys. “Thanks,” Steve said and started the car. “Saint Margarets?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. How’d you know where I’m staying? Have you been pumping Robin for information about me?” Billy asked.

“It’s a small town.” Steve reached over and turned on the radio, his cheeks were burning and he was glad it was dark out.

“The smallest.” Billy sighed tilting his head back against the headrest and watching Steve’s profile slip in and out of shadows as the car pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street.

“I like it fine.” Steve mumbled.

“Yeah? You gonna stay here your whole life?” Billy asked.

“No, no.” Steve said, “I don’t know. I want to go somewhere.” He tapped the steering wheel, “I wouldn’t mind going to Los Angeles.”

“San Diego’s better.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Cleaner air, better beaches,” Billy paused, “But who knows, maybe you’re an L.A. type.”

“L.A. type?” Steve laughed softly, “If you say the best beaches are in San Diego, I believe you.”

“La Jolla’s got some sweet beaches.” Billy said wistfully.

Billy wanted to touch Steve, to rest his hand on his thigh, or squeeze his hand, it was the strangest thing. Dying had changed him, Billy knew this, but being near Steve now, after so many months, felt like waking up from a nightmare, and finding yourself safe.

Steve kept turning his head to look at Billy, who was slouched in the passenger seat, his baseball cap shielding his face, his fingers twisting and unwinding the drawstrings of his hoodie as if of their own accord.

“I’m gonna go back.” Billy said.

“To San Diego?” Steve stopped a little hard at the intersection.

“No Mars.” Billy said sarcastically.

Steve didn’t say anything, he was too distracted by the sensation of his heart sinking.

Billy glanced at Steve, he assumed Steve’s silence meant that he didn’t believe him. “Are you gonna miss me when I’m gone, pretty boy?”

“Yeah.” Steve said without thinking.

“Bullshit.” Billy snorted.

Steve pulled into the church’s parking lot and cruised to a halt. He heard the sound of Billy opening his door and reached over and rested his hand on Billy’s arm. Billy pulled his arm away quickly.

“Hang on a sec.” Steve said.

Billy peered at Steve expectantly.

“Don’t forget to rewind the tapes.” Steve said.

Billy frowned and then barked a laugh. “Alright Mister Video.”

“I’ll see you in four days.” Steve said.

**_Monday, May 5th, 1986_ **

**_Saint Margaret’s Parish_ **

The sun was not yet at its zenith and Billy could feel sweat trickling down his back. He had a bandana on his head and dark aviator sunglasses on, he hadn’t expected it to be so hot but he was also reveling in heat. His hair was tied in a messy ponytail that kept slipping over his shoulder every time he leaned over to dip his paint brush in the bucket. He wondered if Max could teach him how to braid his hair, or if she’d be obnoxious about it. Maybe he could teach himself he mused, it couldn’t be that hard. He wondered what Steve would say if he saw Billy with a braid, would he think it was cool? Billy was planning on watching The Secret Life of Walter Mitty when he was done for the day, he smiled at the memory of how pleased Steve had looked when Billy had accepted his recommendations.

“Are you humming Jesse’s Girl?” Marissa’s familiar voice made him jump, he looked at her over his sunglasses.

“Yeah.”

“Never would have thought you were a Springfield fan.”

“Just stuck in my head.” Billy said, and then remembered it had been playing in Steve’s car last night.

“I did some baking, thought you might want some cornbread.” Marissa handed it to Billy “You know, we need a clerk at the library.”

“Am I qualified?” Billy asked, surprised she’d thought of him.

“You’re literate, that’s really all you need to be qualified.”

“I can’t quit, I’d lose my place.” Billy gestured to the Caretaker’s cottage.

“Well, if you work full time at the library you’ll make enough to rent a room and get experience, and it’s somewhere you can move up.” Marissa said simply.

“It’s that easy?” Billy said sarcastically.

“You’re too smart for this to be it, Billy. I know you’ve been through some stuff and I know you don’t like people, but honestly, you’d be a good fit. Just think about it.” Marissa smiled softly, “and keep doing whatever’s got you humming. I think that’s first time I’ve seen you look happy. Ever.”

“I was happy about the doughnuts.” Billy pushed his sunglasses up and smiled.

“Fine, second time. Think about applying at the library, I can almost guarantee you’ll get hired, it’s just going to be up to you to keep the job once you get it.”

“Thanks.” Billy said, and he meant it.

“You’re welcome, there’s some honey and butter in there so don’t leave it in the sun.” Marissa set an envelope on top of the covered loaf. “The application’s in there, it wouldn’t hurt if you added a cover letter. See you soon.” Marissa turned and walked to the parking lot where her truck was waiting.

Billy went back to work painting the fence. He decided he was going to reward himself with a chunk of cornbread when he was done. Billy thought about the fact that the walk from the library to Family Video was a lot shorter than walking from the church. He wondered if he got the job at the library if he could get the same days off as Steve. Billy kept humming softly to himself, but it was getting harder because was smiling too much.

**_Tuesday May 6th, 1986_ **

**_Family Video_ **

Steve had told Billy to rewind the tapes, he groaned at the memory and consoled himself that he’d at least he’d get to see Billy again when he returned the movies, unless Billy came by and Steve wasn’t working. “That would suck.” Steve muttered to himself.

“What would suck? why are you so spacey lately?” Robin had finished setting up the cardboard stand and filled it with copies of the Care Bear movie.

“I’m not.” Steve said churlishly.

“Well, are you stoned then?Because you’re moving like you’re stuck in jello.” Robin ribbed.

Steve checked the time on his watch and looked down at the pile of Care Bears before him. He had been tasked with putting price stickers on all of their tags and in the last ten minutes he’d gotten exactly three done.

“I’m just thinking.” Steve said.

“Yeah…” Robin said hoping he might elaborate.

“Yeah.” Steve labeled five of the Care Bears in rapid succession, “I think that it’s high time, it’s just time, you know.”

“Time for what?”

“For me to shake things up.” He labeled another three bears and tossed them one after the other at Robin.

“How so?” She asked catching them and adding them to the display.

“Take more risks.” Steve chucked two more at her.

“Okay, but _HOW_?” Robin laughed snatching the bears out of the air.

“Not everything is in the details, Buckley. Just trust me. I’ve got plans.”

“Alright. Just don’t die.” Robin said giving up on getting him to make sense.

“Die? Who has time for that?” Steve stood up and handed Robin an armload of priced stuffed animals and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m ready to live, I’m done with whatever last summer was. I’m a man of action.”

“You’re insane, and keep your cooties to yourself.” Robin laughed, “And when you want to tell me what you’re talking about, I’ll be ready to listen.”

“Soon!” Steve said before he swept up the broken down boxes in his arms and walked out the back door.

The sun was so bright that he shut his eyes just to walk to the dumpster, he squinted, aimed, and tossed everything in. Steve wiped his palms on his jeans and then closed his eyes again, he tilted his head back and let the sun soak into his skin. He wondered if Billy was outside, if he liked being out in the sun like he had before, or if he shunned it now. Even though Billy was paler these days, Steve still thought he kind of glowed, like there was a part of him that was forever kissed by the California sun, what were freckles if not sun kisses, Steve mused.

“Hey, are you coming inside? I need to go to lunch.” Keith called from the doorway.

Steve’s pleasant visions of Billy were dashed. “Yeah, coming.”

**_Wednesday Night, May 7th, 1986_ **

**_Saint Margaret’s Parrish_ **

Billy ejected the tape of Amadeus as soon as it stopped rewinding and put it in its plastic case. He tossed it on the little table by the door where he kept his keys, and then rummaged around in his pockets for his pack of cigarettes.

He’d had a hard time focusing on the film, but it had been weirder and funnier than he’d imagined. He was looking forward to talking to Steve about it. Billy sat down heavily on his bed, the old mattress springs squeaked. Billy was accustomed to its complaints and ignored it, he sat smoking and running one hand across the velvety fur of the sealskin. Not for the first time he wondered if Steve was seeing anyone, and if he was, if Billy could make him forget all about her. After his cigarette he brushed his teeth and stripped down to his boxers and laid down in bed.

He tried to go to sleep but after thirty minutes he gave up, he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. How he’d always badgered Steve in basketball, but only because he wanted his attention, how he’d tried to get Steve to talk to him in the showers, but Steve had just bristled and gotten defensive - and then of course Tommy had been no help, always in the way, throwing out insults because he was so clearly jealous of Steve, Tommy wanted to be the King of Hawkins, but he was just a loudmouth and stooge. Then there was the night that Max had disappeared and Steve had lied about her being there. Billy turned on his bedside lamp and grabbed one of the books he’d bought from the charity sale, not wanting to replay the fight in his mind.

The Mysteries of Scotland, was promising title, Billy thought. He flipped open the book to its index page and ran his finger down the row of chapter titles. Each chapter appeared to be about a different myth or legend of Scotland. He fanned the pages to a chapter at random and saw an illustration of a spotted seal. The chapter title was ‘The Sea Fae’.

Billy laid back with the book, the heaviness of the sealskin weighed comfortably over him. He thought the seal’s fur in the drawing looked a lot like the pelt on his bed. He briefly wondered if the book had come from the same donation box as the skin. He read the chapter slowly, taking his time trying to stay focused and not let his mind wander off with daydreams about Steve.

The story was about a fisherman and his mysterious bride. His new wife was a stranger to the village, her foreign looks made the locals suspicious of her. She had wide eyes like dark pools, and thick brown wild hair that shone like the ocean’s surface at night. She was also clumsy as if her limbs were not her own. Many of the fishwives thought she was haunted by some secret loss and afflicted with melancholia, for she rarely smiled. The fisherman’s wife was often found neglecting her chores and staring at the sea. Some thought she was eager for her husband to return in his little fishing boat, but others thought she was simple.

She bore her husband five children in as many years, all with her dark eyes, and thick dark hair, though her husband was fair with bright stormy eyes like the sea. At the end of the story the fisherman’s wife vanishes. After some days he confessed to his children, that their mother had been a selkie, a seal woman. He told them that he’d stolen her skin and hidden it from her so she would stay and be his devoted wife for all his days, but she’d found the skin and ran back to the sea.

At the end of the chapter was a list of Selkie facts. Billy read them quickly and then flipped to the front pastedown page of the book, in blue swooping cursive was written:

Catherine Harrington, Tayport, Scotland UK August 1968

Billy knew in his heart that the book had come in same box as the seal skin, and he assumed that Catherine was Steve’s mom. Billy sat up in the bed, holding the book like it was a bomb, that was when an envelope slid out from between the dust jacket and book’s front board. It was yellowed and sealed with browning cellophane tape. Billy turned over the envelope, it was no bigger than a post card and felt light, there couldn’t be more than a single page folded inside. Billy turned it over and it saw that it was addressed to Steve Harrington.

“I should return it to him.” Billy whispered, as he pressed his index finger into the gap between the flaps. He tore the envelope open and an unfolded the letter, as he’d expected a single sheet folded in thirds was what he found inside. Catherine Harrington, Steve’s mother’s handwriting was easy to read, it and moved like waves across the page. He read the letter three times over. He wondered if she was crazy, or worse, if what she wrote was true, but that wasn’t possible… Billy got out of bed and walked out to the cemetery. He smoked next to Hogarth’s grave and stayed up all night and watched the sunrise, his mind buzzing with impossible things.

**_Thursday Night, May 8th, 1986_ **

**_Family Video_ **

Billy had been loitering outside of family video for about twenty minutes, he’d had two cigarettes and downed a can of Coke. He was exhausted from working all day after a sleepless night and the walk to Family Video from all the way Saint Margaret’s Parish had been miserable. He’d walked past Melvald’s and seen Marissa’s truck and that had made him double his pace, he hadn’t filled out the application like she’d asked him to do and he felt guilty about it. She was the only person that really cared, or at least bothered to act like she cared, not counting Steve.

Billy watched Steve through the front window of Family Video. When Steve disappeared into the back room Billy decided that it was the time to go in, besides they were closing in less than ten minutes. There was a child was running down one of the aisles and screaming shrilly being chased by an exhausted looking father who had another kid under one arm like he was toting and rolled carpet. Billy wanted to turn around and leave, but he kept walking towards the counter.

“Billy?” A soft high voice questioned.

Billy turned sharply, he had his baseball cap on and had to force himself not to grab the bill and pull it down lower, he wanted to turn around or pretend he didn’t recognize her but that felt too much like cowardice. He’d not seen Nicole since graduation. He remembered that she’d been friends with Heather and Vicki, although he didn’t know how close. She was also friends with Tommy and Carol, and possibly Steve too.

“That is you, isn’t it?” Nicole asked.

“Hey.” Billy glanced at her, catching her looking at the scar on his cheek, like everyone did.

“Wow, it’s been ages. So how are you doing?” Nicole was speaking to him as if she were addressing a child.

“Fine.” Billy said sharply, he didn’t want her pity.

“I was just talking to Vicki the other day, she said she’d seen you in the cemetery, I thought she was just, I don’t know making like a morbid joke.” Nicole smiled uncomfortably, “the one by Saint Margarets?”

“I work there.” Billy paused and held up the tapes, “Gotta return these. See you around.” Billy turned and walked up to the counter. He set the tapes down.

A tall goofy looking guy picked up the tapes and scanned them in. Billy wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that it wasn’t Steve or relieved.

“It’s good to see you Billy.” Nicole said from behind him.

“Bye.” Billy said without turning around.

“You returned these right on time, one more night and there would have been a late fee.” Keith put his palms on the counter and looked at Billy, or rather the brim of his hat because his face was hidden by it. “Are you going to rent anything? We’re closing now.”

The guy looked familiar, then Billy remembered, he used to work at the arcade. Billy looked him up and down, and considered grabbing him by his vest, maybe slamming his head on the counter, a tidal wave anxiety crashed inside of Billy’s chest and it was turning into a furious tsunami in a matter of seconds.

Keith, took a step back from the counter. He’d recognized the customer. This was the guy that picked up the little redhead from the arcade, he’d not seen him around for almost a year.

“Hey.” Steve said, he’d spotted Billy and jogged over, “You want a ride home? I just got off.” Steve didn’t know what was happening but he could see that Billy’s eyes were burning with a cold fury, “Good night Keith!” Steve said and hooked his arm in Billy’s and towed him out of the store, gently but firmly. Steve hoped Billy wouldn’t turn his rage on him.

“I don’t need a ride.” Billy pulled his arm free when they were outside, he cursed under his breath and took few steps away from Steve. He didn’t want to be angry, he just was. He was tired of people treating him differently, Nicole had practically used baby talk when she’d noticed his scar, and that asshole behind the counter treated Billy like he was an idiot.

“Hey, hey, come on. What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Steve followed him.

“Nothing, maybe I just want to walk?” Billy pulled out his cigarette pack and shook one free and lit up.

“ Can I bum one?” Steve gestured at the pack.

“Yeah.” Billy threw the pack at Steve’s chest, and silently cursed himself for being a dick.

“Thanks.” Steve took it in stride, he pulled out a cigarette and walked into Billy’s space.

Billy held still, not sure what Steve was up to. Steve leaned in till the unlit end of his cigarette touched the cherry of the burning one in Billy’s lips. Steve inhaled, his eyes lowered. Billy held still, he felt Steve’s hand rest firmly on his shoulder steadying him, it was the second time that night Steve had touched him, fearlessly, as if Billy was a normal guy, not someone that was prone to fits of rage, or someone that would break. He touched him, like they were friends.

Steve took a drag and turned in a half circle and then looked at Billy. “Was Keith being an asshole? You looked like you wanted to knock his lights out, he’s really good at being annoying. It’s like, his super power.” Steve chuckled.

“I wasn’t going to.” Billy said feeling calmer and very tired.

“Can’t say I haven’t thought about it.” Steve said casually.

Steve looked down at his vest and slipped it off, he walked over to his car and unlocked the driver’s side door, “Come on, just hang out. If you want to walk I get it, but you know it would be cool if youcome sit and talk. I don’t want to go home.”

Billy walked over and got in the car. Steve had stuck his keys in the ignition but didn’t start it up, he just lowered his window and exhaled smoke into the humid night spring air. Billy watched as Steve leaned over into his space and opened the glove box.

“Let’s see here,” Steve grabbed a pen and small note pad and flipped it open, “Do you have a phone?”

“Yeah?” Billy replied suspiciously.

“What’s your number?” Steve looked him expectantly.

Billy rattled off the number, he could feel himself blushing.

Steve tore the bottom half of the page off and held it out to Billy, “I wrote mine down, in case you need a ride, or just wanna like, hang out or something.”

Billy took it and stuffed it in his pocket. “I couldn’t sleep last night,” Billy said, he glanced at Steve who was watching him. Steve’s eyes looked black in the yellow parking lot lights, Billy forgot what he was about to say, he wondered if Steve’s eyes changed color, if somehow they’d gone from deep brown to wide black pools, like the eyes of a seal. He shivered, even though it was pleasantly warm in the car.

“I have nights like that too.” Steve reached over and started dusting some ash off of Billy’s thigh.

Billy glanced at his cigarette, the source of the ash, took one more drag and then flicked it out the window, he lowered his left hand on top of Steve’s.

Steve looked at Billy and reached over and pushed up the brim of his hat.

“What are you doing?” Billy tipped his head away.

“I can’t see you. I want to see you.” Steve said.

“Why?” Billy griped, he glanced out the window and then turned his head to look at Steve, but Steve was so close he was a blur and then their lips were pressed together.

Billy’s mouth had been slightly parted and Steve’s lips fit perfectly. Billy couldn’t help the low moan that traveled up his throat, he closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. Steve rested his hand on the side of Billy’s neck, his long fingers slid into Billy’s tangled curls and gently gripping. Billy parted his lips wider, and let his tongue lap against Steve’s. Steve’s breath came out in a sighing murmur, and then his hands were pulling at the front of Billy’s jacket, drawing him closer. Billy placed a hand on Steve’s side and ran it up his chest. Billy fisted the fabric of Steve’s polo shirt, tugging him closer.

Billy forgot about where they were and about the strange letter he’d read, and gave into bliss of being kissed by the boy he wanted so desperately.

Steve half crawled into Billy’s seat, one of his knees was across the parking break, it wasn’t exactly comfortable but he didn’t care. He slid a hand over Billy’s hip and up to his waist, his fingers tracing along the thick leather belt he wore and then under his shirt, he felt Billy’s soft skin and ridges of what Steve imagined were scars. Billy withdrew from Steve’s lips and pushed Steve back, his heavy lidded eyes staring into Steve’s.

Billy licked his lips slowly, the corner of his mouth curling upward, “Not bad.” He murmured.

“I was just getting started.” Steve smiled his eyes on Billy’s lips.

Steve kissed Billy again, slowly parting his lips, letting his tongue brush Billy’s teeth and ran his hand up Billy’s thigh and palmed his stiffening cock through his jeans.

Billy’s moan was music to Steve’s ear, he turned his head and landed several biting and sucking kisses up the side of Billy’s neck. “I feel like I just need to be near you all the time, is that weird?” Steve whispered into Billy’s ear.

Billy tilted his head back and swallowed hard, his mind flashed back to the letter, the things he’d read in it and the things he’d read in the book. He grabbed hold of Steve’s hand.

“Harrington,” Billy started.

Steve looked at Billy’s eyes immediately and shook his head lightly, “Don’t tell me you don’t like this.” Steve’s brow furrowed, and he asked“Too fast?"

Billy felt a burble of laughter escape his throat, he looked down for a second then back at Steve’s eyes. “I do, but a parking lot’s not the best place to make out when you’re two dudes.” Billy knew he was making a solid point, but he was also buying time. He wanted Steve, he’d never wanted another boy more than he wanted Steve, but the letter and the book, and the skin…

“I guess you’re right,” Steve said a little mournfully. “Should I take you home? Or do you want to come to my place? I can sneak you up to my room, to… hang out.” Steve said hopefully.

“I need sleep. I can’t have you keeping me up all night.” Billy said and then gently shoved Steve back.

“Yeah, you mentioned you were up all night.” Steve said sitting back in his seat. “You could come sleep at my place if you wanted.”

Billy shook his head no.

Steve nodded and started up the engine. The drive to Saint Margaret’s was quiet. Billy stole glances at Steve wondering if he’d ruined everything, if Steve really wanted him, or if it was something else, if it was the stuff of fairytales and magic spells, if Steve was somehow enthralled.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked quietly.

Billy shaken from his thoughts realized that Steve had pulled over in front of Saint Margarets. Billy hadn’t even realized the car had stopped.

“Yeah.” Billy said quickly.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Steve asked. He wanted to ask if he could come in, but worried it might be too pushy.

“I”m working all day tomorrow.”

“Do you have a lunch break?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.” Billy.

“When?” Steve taped his fingers on the steering wheel.

I don’t know, depends on when I’m hungry.” Billy evaded.

“If you don’t want me to come by I won’t.” Steve's voice pitched up oddly.

Billy cursed under his breath, reached over and slid his fingers into the hair at the base of Steve’s neck and hauled him into a kiss. Their mouths met a little clumsily and then that one kiss turned into a string of kisses. Billy pressed his hand over Steve’s chest. Billy’s cock was still stiff from the first time they’d made out and now it was starting to ache. He reached down and groped Steve’s cock curious if he was going through the same agony and was pleased to feel that Steve was rock hard.

Steve pulled from the kiss, his lips were visibly damp and swollen, he looked so debauched, Billy wanted him more than before, which hadn’t seemed possible. Billy impulsively pulled at Steve’s belt and unbuckled it quickly, his fingers moving on to Steve’s button fly. Steve shifted his hips forward and began kissing and biting Billy up his neck.

“Don’t, ow! Don’t leave marks. I working in a fucking church.” Billy turned his head and kissed Steve.

“Okay, okay,” Steve said breathlessly between kisses. Steve reached down and pulled out his cock.

Billy’s eyes fallowed Steve’s hand, and then he leaned forward, ducked his head and parted his lips. Billy’s tongue grazed over the tip of Steve’s cock.

Steve dug his fingers into Billy’s hair, his baseball cap tumbled off his head. Billy’s mouth watered as he closed his lips around the head of Steve’s cock.

“Oh! Billy, baby…” Steve whispered.

Billy closed his eyes, the endearment sounded both strange and appealing to him, he took Steve’s cock deeper into his mouth. Billy drew back, slowly sucking, tasting the salt of Steve’s skin, he gently squeezed the base of Steve’s cock and worked him steadily in his mouth.

Steve was panting, the sounds he made were wanton and exciting to Billy. Billy drew and sucked and let Steve’s cock slide in and out of his lips. Billy leaned up slowly and kissed Steve’s lips.

“Do you like that?” Billy asked before nipping Steve’s bottom lip.

“Yes.” Steve hissed.

Steve reached down and stroked himself. Billy unbuckled his own belt and followed suit, watching Steve jerk his cock. Billy wondered what it would be like to fuck Steve, while he jerked him off, wondered if he’d make the same sound.

Steve was looking him in the eye, his voice came out low and ragged “I want to fuck you so bad.”

Billy felt the skin of his neck burn, the blush seemed to start at his chest and reach all the way up to the tips of his ears, the thought of Harrington fucking him, was almost as good as the idea of fucking Steve’s plump ass. Billy had no reply, he only managed to mutter “Fuck,” then their lips were locked in a hungry kiss. Billy withdrew from the kiss and lowered himself to take Steve in his mouth again. Steve lifted his hips and fucked into Billy’s mouth like a boy worthy of the title King. Billy kept jerking himself with his left hand and sucking hungrily at Steve’s cock.

Steve tensed, Billy moved his head back, and ran his tongue of the tip of Steve’s dark red cock. Steve pulled Billy up by the collar of his hoodie, kissing him fervently. Billy groaned into the kiss, and came over his knuckles. Steve’s hand rested over Billy’s and slid the tips of his fingers over the crown of Billy’s weeping cock spreading Billy’s cum.

“Fuck.” Steve whispered.

Billy shuddered feeling Steve’s hand on his cock, he’d never been touched like that by another boy. He dropped his eyes looking down at both of their cocks, at the mess they’d made. Steve’s index finger gently lifted Billy’s chin and then they were kissing again. They made out in Steve’s BMW, the windows were down letting in a warm night breeze, and the sound of crickets. Billy felt like he was truly alive, when he was with Steve and he didn’t know if he was dizzy with fatigue or drunk on Steve, but he was definitely alive.

After several minutes of kissing and groping Billy pulled away sat back slowly.

“Harrington,” His voice sounded raw, “I need sleep, go home.”

“Alright. Alright. I don’t want to, but okay.” Steve stroked Billy’s jaw, as he spoke.

The tenderness was enough to make Billy want to cry, instead he just leaned back and focused on rearranging his jeans and briefs, busying his hands. “I’ll call you.” Billy said and slipped out of the car. He walked on boneless legs to his little cottage, wishing Steve could spend the night, but there were things he needed to understand, things they needed to talk about. Billy could no longer form a single cohesive thought. When he tipped over into his bed he rested his cheek against the seal skin and he could still taste Steve on his tongue as he drifted off into a deep sleep.

**_Friday Morning, May 9th, 1986_ **

**_Harrington Household_ **

Steve woke up early, he rolled over in bed and smiled softly at the thought of Billy Hargrove, the smile turned into a full bloomed goofy grin when he replayed what they’d gotten up to in his car just last night, in the church parking lot no less! Steve grabbed one of his pillows and pressed it over his face feeling giddy. He bounced out of bed and zipped into the bathroom. He took a shower and sang his heart out, feeling high and hopeful, he couldn’t remember ever feeling so deliriously buoyant. After getting dressed he hopped down the staircase and slid into the kitchen in his sock, his sneakers under his arm, sunglasses on his head. His mother looked up from her breakfast a curiously.

“Morning.” Steve said.

“Good morning. What are you doing up so early, aren’t you off today?” Steve’s mother sipped from her tea cup watching him.

“I’m gonna go see a friend.” Steve said as he plopped some sliced bread into the toaster.

“It’s Friday, isn’t Robin at school?”

“Robin’s at school, yeah.” Steve grabbed a glass from the cupboard, he knew his mother was fishing.

“Are you going to see your little friend, what’s his name, Dustin?”

“Dustin? No. He’s in school too, mom.” Steve shook his head.

“Why are you being mysterious?” His mother asked.

“Why don’t you just ask who I’m going to see?” Steve turned looking at her.

“Because you get defensive. Just like you’re being now. You’re always so secretive.”

“Maybe that’s because you don’t like my friends because they’re too poor? And besides when I want to tell you something you’re always too busy to listen to me.” Steve all but slammed the carton of orange-juice on the counter.

“I’m never too busy for you.” Catherine looked wounded.

“That’s not what it feels like.”

“I’m on the city council, I was active in the PTA all throughout your school years.” Catherine’s cheeks were getting flushed,“I run the Hawkins Heights annual charity ball, and I don’t do it for my amusement Steve, I do it to make things better. If I’m busy it’s because I’m helping people, poor people. I’m not some selfish monster.” Catherine set her cup down and touched her hair.

“No, that’s dad’s title.” Steve muttered, he’d heard this speech before.

“Don’t say that about your father.” Catherine stood up, clutching her coffee cup.

“Mom,” Steve put the orange-juice back in the refrigerator, “I’m sorry.” He remembered being so small and she was always there and then all of sudden she wasn’t. Like she shut herself off from him, he didn’t know what he’d done. “Everything’s fine, I’m going to go see Billy Hargrove, he’s working at Saint Margaret’s.”

“The Catholic Church?”

“Yeah mom, my friend Billy works at the Catholic church.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh, what’s his last name?”

“Hargrove.”

“What do his parents do? Is he going to go to college soon?”

“You see, you’re doing it again.” Steve sighed looking at her, he wondered why she couldn’t hear herself, asking about his parents work was the same as asking if he came from money, asking if he was going to college was the same asking if he was ever going to make something of himself.

“I’m just curious about your friend, you don’t have a lot of them.” Mrs Harrington said.

“I know, yeah, I know…” Steve shook his head, “I love you mom, I”ll see you later.”

“You haven’t eaten anything, what about your toast?”

“Lost my appetite.” Steve shoved his feet in his shoes and walked out of the house.

Steve stopped in the Deli and ordered two sandwiches. He wasn’t sure what Billy liked so he got two different types of their deli specialties, he figured one of them had to be to Billy’s liking. He added a couple of cans of Coke and some cookies to the order and stared out the window thinking about Billy while his order was prepped.

Steve knew Billy had a sweet-tooth, that he was Max’s stepbrother, that Neil was his biological father, that he’d come from San Diego, California, he was smart and tough, and could be kind an asshole sometimes, but he seemed different now. Steve wondered if that was true or if he just wanted it to be? He wondered if Billy would just go back to being agro and shitty to him? Steve shook the thought away, people change, he sure had, why not Billy too?

Steve was smiling again by the time he got back in his car. The aggravation of his morning conversation with his mother slowly melted away the more he thought about Billy. As he drove towards the church he thought about what Robin had said, calling him obsessed with Billy. Steve laughed to himself thinking, she didn’t know the half of it.

**_Friday, May 9th, 1986_ **

**_Saint Margaret’s Parish_ **

Billy had been tasked with polishing all the wood fixtures in the nave of the church, which included the pews, tables, the confessional and several hand carved high backed chairs. He knew it would take all day so he started promptly at seven in the morning. He worked at a quick pace, he was sweating in his hoodie by the time he’d finished the pews at half past ten. A few people had come and gone to light candles and pray, but no one had bothered him. He kept his eyes down and gave every parishioner a wide birth.

Billy felt exposed without his baseball cap, it had been given to him by Dr Owen’s when Billy had been at the hospital and complained about the lights, bright lights gave him migraines, or at least they used to. Now he just felt naked when he wasn’t wearing it, but father Scott had a strict no hat policy in the church. He was also aware he’d probably be a lot cooler without his hoodie on, but he didn’t want to chance anyone noticing the scars on his arms, some of the skin above his veins had changed color, the skin turned white from whatever poisons the Shadow had been making him drink. So Billy sweated it out to avoid becoming an object of curiosity, pity, or revulsion; he wondered if some part of him secretly believed he was doing penance by suffering from the heat in his hoodie, about a thousand Hail Marys would probably be easier, Billy thought.

Billy’s arms were getting tired, but he distracted himself by thinking about Steve, it felt as though he’d never stopped thinking about Steve since he’d seen him on the first of May when Billy was picking up donations with Marissa. Billy paused realizing it had been less than ten days, but if felt like yesterday and like it had happened a year ago at the same time.

Billy walked up to the confessional and polished the outside from the top down, using a cloth that reeked of sweet scented orange oil. He didn’t mind the smell, it reminded him of home, before his mother had left. He felt his eyes burn at the memory and sighed feeling impatient with himself, he was getting to be like a sentimental grandma. His mind too was restless and every thought that came to the forefront gave him a different kind of pain.

He heard someone enter the nave, even with the carpeted aisles Billy could always hear when someone came in. He didn’t turn around, he just opened the confessional and stepped in to give the wood a generous oiling. His thoughts boomeranged back to Steve, he needed to talk to him, give him the letter, and the skin, they both belonged to him. As Billy rubbed down the wood interior of the confessional he kept thinking about the busted box and its secret contents, he had no idea how they’d ended up at rummage sale it had to have been an accident.

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned.” Steve said huskily, standing right behind Billy.

Billy turned around facing Steve. Steve moved closer his brown irises nearly eclipsed by his black pupils.Billy flushed from his chest to his ears so quickly his cheeks stung.

“Did I startle you?” Steve asked in a whisper, as he stepped into Billy’s space, backing him deeper into the confessional and then shutting them in it while Billy gaped.

“Harrington.” Billy said in a wary tone.

“Hargrove.” Steve replied as he wrapped his arms around Billy’s waist.

“You can’t mess around like this.” Billy whispered.

“I’m not messing around.” Steve said as he ducked his head and pressed his lips over the side of Billy’s neck, and planting a chain of kisses across his throat. Billy felt the edge of the seat at the back of his legs, he sighed, feeling trapped and very hot for Steve. Steve’s hands slid under Billy’s hoodie and up his back. Steve’s long fingers were caressing Billy’s skin and then squeezing his shoulder blades pulling Billy forward into a kiss. Billy parted his lips and embraced Steve. Steve’s lips parted over Billy’s, his tongue prying and sliding wet and hot into Billy’s mouth. Billy moaned ever so softly into the kiss, further stoking Steve’s appetite. Steve’s hands rushed down Billy’s back and traced around his waist. Steve’s fingers began tugging on the buckle of Billy’s belt.

“Not here, not here.” Billy reached down and gripped Steve’s hands, his head tilted up to press temple to Steve’s.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, about your mouth… on me.” Steve whispered.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either.” Billy confessed.

Billy pressed his hands on the side’s of Steve’s face, looking into his dark eyes in the shadowy light of the confessional.

“You’re eyes are so blue.” Steve whispered before running his hands into Billy’s hair and turning him so his back was against the door and kissing him hungrily, his hips firmly rocking against Billy’s.

Billy ached, he wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck and shoulders. Billy ground his hips against Steve’s, his cock swelling tightly in his jeans.

“Billy?” Father Scott’s voice called from outside the confessional.

Billy reached up and touched Steve’s lips, signaling for him to be silent.

“Where is he?” Father Scott’s words came out in a mumble, it sounded like he was addressing the air.

Billy kissed Steve slowly, and then whispered in his ear, “Stay here.”

Steve nodded mutely. Billy pulled the waist of his hoodie down and twisted it into place, he ran his hand over his hair quickly and opened the confessional door, he swiped up the oil rag he’d dropped and looked around for Father Scott.

“Hey.” Billy said while closing the confessional door with his heel.

“There you are. I’m going to go visit the Piersons, Vicar Doyle will be here in few minutes and he’ll be manning the confessional soon. The wood is absolutely glowing.” Father Scott said admiring the exterior of the confessional.

“Thanks.” Billy said.

“Are you sick?” Father Scott stepped forward.

Billy recoiled instinctually.

Father Scott lowered his hand which he’d just raised and then adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “You should take a break Billy, you’re very flushed.”

“I will.” Billy said turning his face away.

“Right. Good.” Father Scott nodded, a concerned expression on his face, he turned and walked down the center aisle and out of the back of the nave.

As soon as he was out of sight Billy puffed out a breath he’d not realized he’d been holding. He opened the confessional and grabbed Steve’s hand, “C’mon.” Billy said.

“He thinks I have a fever.” Billy said casting Steve and accusatory look.

“I brought you lunch.” Steve said smirking, “You do look a little red.”

“Lunch?” Billy arched a brow.

“Lunch.” Steve said simply.

“Yeah?” Billy squinted at Steve, “Anything good?”

“Pastrami or Ham and Turkey?”

“Pastrami.” Billy smiled, “Shit.”

“Shit, what?” Steve asked as they stepped outside and into the brilliant sunlight.

“Nothing. Let’s eat in the cemetery. I”ll introduce you to a friend.” Billy said.

“In the cemetery?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from ghosts.” Billy said.

They stopped briefly at Steve’s car so he could grab the brown bagged lunches off the passenger seat and then walked the short distance to the cemetery that was on the back of the property.

“I’ve never eaten in a cemetery.” Steve said.

“It’s peaceful.” Billy replied, “No one’s been buried there in awhile, so people don’t come to visit.”

“You have a friend that’s hanging out at the cemetery today?” Steve asked.

Billy thought Steve didn’t sound thrilled to be meeting someone. “Everyday, come see.” Billy said.

Steve wondered who was hanging out in cemetery but he only muttered “Okay,” in acquiescence and squeezed Billy’s hand. Billy hadn’t let go of Steve’s hand since he’d hauled him out of the confessional, and Steve was feeling rather pleased about it.

Billy plopped down with his back against a headstone at the far end of the cemetery. Steve took in the tall twisted trees leaning over a freshly painted white fence that separated the uneven lawn of the cemetery grounds from the wooded area behind the church property.

Steve handed Billy the bag marked “P” for pastrami. Billy’s eyes caught the light and glowed like pale stars. Steve sat lotus next to Billy staring at his eyes. Impulsively he reached over and rested his hand on Billy’s thigh, he wanted to always touch him. Billy was Steve’s anchor, he felt like home.

“I can’t remember the last time I had a pastrami sandwich.” Billy smiled as he tore off the deli paper.

Steve smiled watching Billy. “They’re the best in town,” Steve pulled out a small plastic bag of pickles, “and they give you free pickles,” Steve ate a pickle spear, “I guess your friend’s not here?”

“Oh yeah. Steve meet Hogarth, Hogarth meet Steve.” Billy gestured with his thumb over his shoulder at the headstone he was leaning on.

Steve leaned forward reading, the engraved letters were worn, but still visible. Steve ran his fingertips over the letters. “I hate to tell you this Billy, but your friends dead.”

“Yeah, we have that in common, I just didn’t stay dead.”

“So you really were dead?” Steve asked.

“Yep.” Billy scrubbed a knuckle under his nose, he wasn’t used to talking about it.

“What was that like?” Steve’s brows were furrowed.

Billy snorted and looked Steve in the eyes, “It was sudden.”

Steve scooter closer to Billy leaning on Hogarth’s tombstone. It was warm there in the sun, there were a few bees wafting about.

“Just sudden?” Steve asked.

“It felt like I’d been dying for days. I wasn’t myself anymore, the Shadow wouldn’t let me tell anyone what was happening, I felt like I was a ghost haunting my own body.” Billy took a sip of his Coke, to mask his voice cracking.

Steve reached over and slid his hand over Billy’s.

“Then I was flooded with memories, these moments, remembering what it was like to be happy, to be excited and feel free…and my mom.” Billy paused, “and then there was pain, more pain than I’d ever been in my life, and I wanted to give up. But, I had to protect Max. I had to stop that monster. Stop it from hurting that girl, and I tried, and I failed, and I then I was just, sorry?” Billy turned his head away and took another sip from his soda and cleared his throat roughly, “And then suddenly there was nothing.” Billy shrugged.

“You didn’t fail.” Steve released Billy’s hand and wrapped his arm around his waist, he pulled him closer and kissed him softly. “You didn’t fail.”

Billy nodded. “I haven’t always done the right thing.” Billy swallowed, thinking about the letter that belonged to Steve.

“No one always does the right thing.” Steve said.

“Maybe I’ve done more than my fair share of bad things.” Billy retorted.

“I don’t care.” Steve said.

“I do.”

“Well, that’s your problem.”

“You don’t care if I’m a bad person?”

“No, I don’t believe you are one. You work in a church for Christ’s sake. You helped with a charity rummage sale. You saved all of us from the Mind Flayer, you do and have done a lot of good things.” Steve squeezed Billy.

“I…”Billy felt overwhelmed by guilt and doubt, “I like it when you do that.” He took a bite of his sandwich and felt Steve give him another squeeze.

“I kinda like doing it.” Steve said.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Billy remained tucked against Steve’s side, and Steve kept his arm around Billy’s waist, not wanting to let him go. The spring afternoon heat and full belly was making Billy feel sleepy and listless. He liked that Steve could just be there next to him and say nothing, and was surprised that he didn’t feel compelled to ramble at Steve, to tease and provoke him. Billy didn’t even feel the need to be mute, like he did around most people now days, he just felt at peace.

“I want to got to the beaches in La Jolla with you one day. Do you think you could teach me how to surf?” Steve said dreamily.

“You’ve never tried it?” Billy asked.

“I’ve never swam in the ocean.”

“You’ve never been to the beach?”

“No, I’ve never swam in the ocean. My mom never wants to go to the beach on our family vacations, and when I asked if we could she said I’d be swept out by the undertow and she’d never see me again.” Steve snorted, “I’m a very good swimmer. I think she just gets freaked out by things, like fixates on the worst case scenario.”

“I was surfing when I was this tall.” Billy held his hand out above the ground, “I’ll teach you to surf, and you can tell your Mom I’ll be your personal life guard, I won’t let the sea steal you from me.” Billy said, he lowered his eyes, realizing what he’d said,

I won’t let the sea steal you from me…

“It’s a deal then.” Steve kissed Billy’s cheek and beamed at him.

Billy glanced at his watch not wanting to look Steve in the eye, “I’ve gotta get back to work.”

“Oh.” Steve said sounding disappointed. “I’m working tomorrow, actually Saturday and Sunday.”

Billy stood up and busied himself picking up the bags and the wrappers from their lunches. “Don’t worry pretty boy, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Better not.” Steve said.

Billy let Steve walk ahead of him and followed as they picked their way through the graveyard.

“It’s actually nice here, you weren’t kidding, it’s peaceful.”

“No prying eyes.” Billy said right before he slapped Steve’s ass, the sound was loud and satisfying, almost as satisfying as watching Steve’s cheeks flush.

“ _Sonofabitch_.” Steve said with a fond smile as he rubbed his offend hindquarter.

**Saturday Evening _, May 10th, 1986_**

**_Saint Margaret’s Parish_ **

Billy turned off the burner on his stove and poured the pot of hot canned noodle soup into a bowl. He sat down at the table and picked up his spoon to begin eating when he heard a knock on the door. Billy cursed under his breath and went to open the front door. He was expecting someone looking for Father Scott, or maybe it Doyle, the new Vicar who managed to lock himself out of the church about once a week.

“Max?” Billy said, surprised by her visit.

“Are you going to invite me in?” She asked.

“Hold on a sec.” He shut the door in her face and walked over to the bed. He rolled up the seal skin and shoved it underneath his bed.

“Are you hiding your skin mags?” Max asked loudly from the other side of the door.

Billy opened the door and looked at her with his brow cocked, “No, and if I did you’d find them anyways. You snoop.”

“Well you’re going to thank me for being a snoop in about ten seconds.” Max came in a sat on Billy’s bed. She leaned her skateboard against Billy’s bedside table and pulled off her backpack.

“Does Susan know you’re here?”

“Of course not.” Max paused her digging in her backpack and looked up him, “You’re talking, you’re talking a lot.” She smiled.

“I’ve been talking since I was two.” Billy snarked.

“Well, you were monosyllabic the last time I saw you.”

“Fine, I’m talking.”

“What changed?” Max pulled out a PeeChee folder and slipped out an envelope.

“My bratty little stepsister busted into my place when I was trying to have dinner.” Billy replied.

“Here. I found this in Neil’s desk. That check expires on May Seventeenth by the way. I don’t think he was ever going to give it to you.”

Billy sat down next to her and took the envelope, he looked at the check that was poking out on one side. The envelope was pink, it looked plain aside from a small government seal marking the front flap. He pulled out the check enough to read that it was addressed to him and it was for twenty-five-thousand dollars.

“ _Holy-shit_.” Billy whispered.

“Just remember you owe me a skateboard.” Max said softly.

“Yeah, no problem.” Billy said marveling at the amount.

“I read the letter, it’s basically hush money from the government goons.”

“I’ll take it.” Billy said.

“What were you doing going through his things?” Billy asked.

“I was looking for a letter from my dad, sometimes he writes to me and Neil just leaves them on his desk, like he,” Max made air quotes with her fingers and said “accidentally forgets, to give them to me. He’s such a tyrant.”

“You mean asshole.” Billy said holding the two envelopes.

“Yeah, total asshole.” Max leaned on Billy. “But the good thing is you’ve got money now, and you can afford to do things, like buy a new car and get me a skateboard, or you could buy us both cars.”

“I’m not buying you a car.” Billy said with a snort.

“Fine.” Max said.

“Thanks, for bringing this to me.” Billy said softly.

“Thanks for saving my life.” Max mumbled.

Billy reached over to the bedside table and dropped the envelope in the drawer.

“Max.” Billy said.

“Yeah?” Max looked up at him, wondering if he was going to shove her off of him, or tell her to go home.

“I need to talk to you, about some serious shit. Can you handle that?”

“Totally.” Max said sitting up.

“That Shadow,” Billy started.

“The Mind-Flayer,” Max corrected.

“Yeah, whatever, don’t interrupt, shitbird.”

“You’re rude, dickhead.”

“Are you gonna let me talk?”

“I guess.”

“Great.” Billy paused looking at her waiting for her to cut him off, when she remained silent he began again. “The Mind-Flayer, it was real…”

“ _Is_ real, it’s just trapped in a parallel universe.”

“Fine, is real.” Billy shivered, “So what else is real?”

“Oh. Yeah. I had this conversation with Lucas a few weeks ago. Aliens for sure.” Max said gravely.

“What about other things, like,” Billy started to say more but Max cut in.

“We disagreed about angels and ghosts.” Max said matter of factly, “I think that ghosts are actually manifestations of living people’s energy, as well as recorded echos of people from the past, but they’re not sentient when they’re like that. I think angels are like, when people are having neural problems in their brains. All that ‘bright light at the end of the tunnel’ stuff, is just like your brain going on the fritz, you know?”

“Uh-huh.” Billy said, waiting for her to finish.

“Lucas thinks that Angels are real, like actual celestial beings that work for a divine force, and ghosts are beings in parallel universes that are using a space, or like a home, or whatever, as a super-highway, like a haunted place is just infused with all this inexplicable energy because of so many beings are moving about planes where the divide has gotten paper thin. Personally I think his theories are a bit, well, like wishful thinking, but I don’t have anything to really back up my theories or discount his, nothing solid, not yet.” Max sat up looking at Billy, “Do you have anything to drink?”

“Sure.” Billy got up and opened his fridge, he had some lemonade. He poured Max a glass and one for himself.

“What about other things?” Billy asked.

“Like what?”

“Mermaids?” Billy ventured.

“Those are just, wishful thinking, or a trick of the eye.” Max scoffed, “Sailors trying to one up each other at telling tall tales.”

“Giant squid are real.” Billy said, “What about shape shifters?”

“Like werewolves?” Max raised her eyebrows, “Are you seriously asking me if I think werewolves are real?”

“The Mind-Flayer is real, you just said so. Every culture has shape shifters, people that take on animal forms. ”

“Oh. Yeah, that is true. That’s true! There’s jaguar-men in South America,” Max frowned, “Oh my god we never talked about that,” Max shook her head, “And there’s Tiger-men in India, and Skin-walkers, right here in America!”

“And seal people in Scotland.” Billy said softly.

“Seal people? You mean Selkies?” Max asked.

“Selkies.” Billy said.

Max chewed on her thumb nail, “I mean there were witch trials, and there’s El, not that all those poor women were witches, but you know some of them might have been like her.”

“So, what if Selkie’s are real?” Billy asked.

“Well, we can’t prove they’re not real, or are real, and shape shifters, like ghosts are a universal cultural phenomenon…there’ve been myths about them forever, so it makes you wonder.” Max looked out at the twilight washed sky through one of Billy’s narrow windows. Suddenly home seemed much further away, and the pretty country landscape of Hawkins’ outskirts had shifted from picturesque to perilous.

“I’ll walk you home tonight.” Billy said, as if reading her mind.

“Thanks.” Max said before taking a long drink from her glass of lemonade.

**_Sunday Morning, May 11th, 1986_ **

**_The Harrington Household_ **

Steve rolled over and checked the clock on his bedstand, he’d been hoping that Billy would have stopped by Family Video the night before, but he hadn’t. When Steve had gotten home last night he’d been in such a bad mood about it he’d decided not to call Billy. Instead he’d just fumed and flopped around on his bed until he fell into a restless sleep.

Steve sat up and rubbed his face, he had an ingrown hair on his cheek that he knew looked like a pimple. He scratched at the bump and wondered if he should call Billy, or if he should wait, or if he should just go by the church again, not that he had time to go before work and it was Sunday.

Sundays at Family Video was both the worst and the best. They opened late, which was great, and more people returned stuff then checked out stuff, accepting returns was much easier than checking stuff out, but rewinding and re-shelving wasn’t exactly a treat. Steve remembered that it was a last Sunday that Billy had come into Family Video, it was almost like an anniversary, but not, because it hadn’t been a year, but it still felt important.

Steve grabbed the phone and dialed Billy’s number, which Steve had taped to the top of his bedside table. He tilted his head holding the receiver in place and walked over to his dresser and started pulling out clothing for the day, it was really hard coordinate his color schemes so they didn’t clash with his stupid work vest. Robin didn’t seem to care, she’d wear just about any color, but Steve thought that was crazy, he couldn’t wear purple, no pale pinks, and absolutely no shades of green. Green on green was what he considered a major fashion _faux pas_. Billy finally picked up after the sixth ring.

“Hello?”Billy mumbled.

Steve perked up hearing Billy’s low sleepy voice and threw his fresh clothes on the bed, “Hey. Hi Billy. Did I wake you up?”

“Sorta.” Billy replied.

“I’m working tonight. Sunday shift, one to nine, I get a whole hour for lunch, four-forty-five is when it starts.”

“Yeah?” Billy asked, in a distracted tone.

“Uh, yeah. You should come by, we could go to Rossini’s.”

“Do what?” Billy asked.

“Are you busy?” Steve twisted the cord and paced.

“I’m getting dressed, I gotta go set things up at church.”

“I’ll treat you to a late lunch at Rossini’s, later? Or an early dinner?”

“Rossini’s, that pizza joint…” Billy mumbled into the phone.

Steve frowned and wondered if Billy didn’t like pizza. “We could eat somewhere else, if you’re not in the mood for pizza.” Steve said.

“Just a lot of people.” Billy said.

“It’s not too busy on Sundays.” Steve sat down on the edge of his bed, listening to Billy mover around his place.

“I’ve never seen your place, at least not the inside.” Steve said, fishing for an invitation.

“What’s inside?” Billy asked.

“Uh, you sound really busy, why don’t you call me at Family Video later on. Do you have the number?”

“Yeah, yeah, good idea.” Billy said.

Steve could hear Billy moving things around, it sounded like he was going through drawers, he wondered if Billy was looking for something.

“You have the number? It’s on the receipt and the bag, um, grab a pen and I’ll tell it to you.”

“That’s okay, I’ve got here… somewhere. I gotta go.”

“Oh, okay. Call me?”

“Yeah.” Billy mumbled.

“Or just come by whenever, even if you can’t hang out for lunch.” Steve said hopefully, “Um, okay, bye Billy.” The line was suddenly disconnected. Steve wasn’t even sure if Billy had heard him say goodbye.

**_Sunday Evening, May 11th, 1986_ **

**_Family Video_ **

“Hey, why the long face?” Robin asked.

“What?” Steve looked up from the stack of membership forms he was adding to the front counter drawers, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it, you certainly don’t sound it.” Robin gently pushed Steve’s shoulder. “We haven’t hung out for over a week, that’s gotta be a record.”

Steve frowned, “I guess I better get used to it, Harvard.”

“Don’t be like that. C’mon Steve. I’m just going to college and that’s not for a while, and we’ll still be friends. It’s not like I’m dying.”

“You say that now, but I never hear from Jonathan. First his family moved and then he got his scholarship to NYU. I mean at this point, I really doubt I’ll see him ever again, unless him and Nancy get married.”

“I didn’t know you guys were close.” Robin said.

“We weren’t, but we were friends, you know?”

“Well, you and I are close. I’m not going to let you slip through my fingers dingus, you’re my best friend.” Robin said firmly.

“You say that now, but pretty soon you’re gonna be at Harvard and you’re going to meet some hot, sexy, smart, probably wealthy, but liberally minded brunette who has a thing for former band geeks, from small towns, that are tall and brainy and that’s gonna be it. You’ll be too busy for your old pal Steve.”

“Never.” Robin said, “I mean, yeah I”m totally going to meet that brunette, but um, or red head or blonde, because please, what is the point of liking someone based on their hair color, or any hair at all? Anyways, you’re like the brother I never had, only better because I picked you.”

Steve looked at her, and shook his head, “You’re full of it,” he stepped forward and hugged her gently.

“No I’m not and I’m going to prove you wrong.” She hugged him tightly, “How dare you doubt me.”

“Hey, don’t hug on the sales floor, it’s weird.” Keith said coming up from the back room.

“So is eating cheese puffs.” Steve said, hugging Robin longer out of spite.

“It’s a perk of being a manager, Harrington.” Keith said as he slouched towards the front door, “I’m off for the night, those videos better not be on the cart the morning.”

“Does he really think we do our jobs because he says things like that?” Robin rolled her eyes.

“Who knows.” Steve walked over to the cart, “I only do it because if I don’t you to give me that look.”

“Finally, some power.” Robin joked, “Soon I’ll subvert the patriarchy, but don’t worry I’ll be merciful on you, most favored dingus.”

“Yes empress Buckley.” Steve replied.

Steve wheeled the cart away. Billy hadn’t called, or come by. Steve had even eaten in his car so he could watch the front of the store, just in case Billy had decided to come by. He felt hollow when he wasn’t around Billy, like some chunk of himself had been physically carved out and nauseous as well, he hadn’t even finished his lunch.

“Oh Jesus,” Steve muttered to himself, “Am I love sick?” Steve threw up his arms in disgust. He wasn’t just obsessed with Billy, he was falling for him, and hard.

**_Sunday Night, May 11th, 1986_ **

**_Saint Margaret’s Parish_ **

Billy made a point of tackling the biggest project he could. Earlier in the day, after the last of the parishioners had left the church, Billy approached Father Scott when he was shutting up his small office.

“Excuse me, Father Scott.” Billy hadn’t waited for Father Scott to finish turning around before launching into his plan of action, “I’ve been meaning to organize the storage room, and I was thinking I could do it tonight, since Mondays are usually when I do the gardening, and if I do it Tuesday I’ll be walking through the AA meeting that’s held in the recreation room.”

Father Scott had turned looking at Billy with raised brows.

Billy shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s Sunday, don’t you want an evening to yourself, Billy?” Father Scott asked after some silent consideration, “Can’t it wait till Wednesday?”

“It’s gonna on rain Wednesday. I might need to move some things outside, temporarily, to get the back wall, where the shelves are.” Billy wasn’t sure if really was going to rain on Wednesday, but he said it with authority. When Father Scott still seemed hesitant Billy said “If you don’t want me to do it,” and shrugged with an air of resignation and tried to look disappointment.

“No, no it’s fine. Since it’s going to rain on Wednesday then why don’t you make that a half day since you’ll be working this evening?” Father Scott suggested.

“Okay.” Billy turned to leave but stopped short.

“And Billy,” Father Scott continued.

“Yes, Father?” Billy looked at Father Scott, feeling apprehensive.

“We’re lucky to have you here. I appreciate your initiative. You’ve really grown in these few weeks since you’ve joined the parish.” Father Scott smiled warmly.

“Thank you.” Billy felt a catch in his throat, he wasn’t used to people speaking to him with kindness.

He felt a pang of guilt as he headed to the storage room. Billy had only requested the task so he could be busy, he needed to talk to Steve, but he wasn’t ready. Steve had mentioned that morning, that he’d never seen Billy’s place, and Billy’s stomach had hit the floor. What if Steve just showed up, what if he found the sealskin, what if he figured it all out… that his feelings, or attraction, or whatever was happening between the two of them wasn’t real?

Billy took on the chore of emptying the storage room, dusting, sweeping and mopping, reorganizing folding tables and chairs, shelving hymn and prayer books and wiping and polishing every surface at an athletic pace. While placing the old prayerbooks in a scuffed and battered barrister case Billy found a bottle of scotch tucked on a low shelf in the back corner, it was dusty and looked like no one had so much as looked at it in a decade, he set it aside and decided it had been waiting for him to find it. After finishing cleaning the room out and putting chaos to order, Billy had not achieved any kind of peace of mind at all, he was exhausted his brain still felt like it was on fire.

********

Billy sat on his bed, it was nine o’clock at night and that meant Steve was off work. Billy got up and rolled up the seal skin and gently placed in his duffle bag and then hid it under his bed. He stood up, stretching his aching muscles and lit a cigarette.

The letter was sitting on his bedside table. Billy considered burning the letter. He told himself he could pretend he’d never read it. He flicked open his lighter and ignited the flame. He could just let things go on between him and Steve, and revel in the pleasure of his attention. He held the flame to one corner and watched the paper brown and then quickly snapped shut his lighter. Billy’s eyes stung, he sniffled and opened up the bottle of Scotch that he’d taken from the church. Billy wondered how one letter could turn his already broken world upside down.

His phone rang. Billy wasn’t surprised. He took a drag on his cigarette and looked at his wristwatch. It was now a quarter after nine, that meant Steve was home. Billy opened his the bottle of scotch and took a sip from it listening to the phone ring again and again.

**_Monday Morning, May 12th, 1986_ **

**_Harrington Household_ **

**_1:12AM_ **

Steve jolted awake, he’d been dreaming of Billy, they’d been on a beach, near a pier. As the fog of sleep dissipated from Steve’s mind he realized that the phone was ringing for the second time. He reached over and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?” He murmured.

“Hi.” Billy said.

“Hello?!” Richard Harrington, Steve’s father, had also answered the phone.

“Dad, I’ve got it.”

“Why the hell are your friends calling in the middle of the night?” Richard Harrington’s voice was thick with sleep and aggravation.

“I’ve got it dad, just go back to sleep.” Steve was standing, he wasn’t sure when he’d gotten out of bed but he was worried that Billy would hang up and that he might be in some kind of trouble.

“This is unacceptable.” Richard said before slamming the phone down in its cradle.

“Billy? Are you still there?” Steve rested his hand on his chest and realized that his heart was racing.

“Steve.” Billy said.

“Yeah, hey. Are you okay, is everything okay? I called your place like three times tonight, but you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry, I was thinking.” Billy’s voice sounded husky, like he’d been smoking a lot, and possibly drinking.

“So, you’re okay?” Steve sat down on the edge of his bed, “I’d really hoped you’d come by, you know?”

“I”m fine.” Billy’s voice sounded small and forlorn, “Can you come over? I want to go to a lake? Will you pick me up?”

“What? Which lake?” Steve picked up his jeans off of the floor and started stepping into them.

“I don’t know, what’s the big one?”

“Uh, there’s Lake Jordan, and Lover’s Lake, they’re both pretty big.” Steve zipped up his jeans as he spoke, “I’ll pick you up. I can be there in, um ten minutes?”

“Good.” Billy said.

“Yeah, great.” Steve said and heard Billy hang up.

“What the hell is going on.”Steve muttered.

Steve pulled on a fresh shirt and grabbed his pale grey jacket, he grabbed his wallet from his bedside drawer along with a couple other things before heading out of his room and down the stairs. It wasn’t the first time he’d snuck out his house in the middle of the night but this felt more urgent, and more clandestine than any other time.

**_Monday Morning, May 12th, 1986_ **

**_Saint Margaret’s Parish_ **

**_1:27AM_ **

Steve drove into the church parking lot, the sound of his crunching softly gravel seemed incredibly loud. He drove to the very back of the lot and watched as the light from his headlights passed briefly over the window of Billy’s cottage and then shined on the headstones in the cemetery. Steve’s heart was thumping as if he’d ran there. He cut the engine just as the passenger door opened and Billy sat himself down and dropped his duffle bag between his feet.

“Let’s go.”Billy said, staring out the windshield.

“Lover’s Lake?” Steve said, he felt a thrill in his chest at the sight of Billy.

“Yeah,” Billy nodded, “Lover’s Lake.”

Steve exited the parking lot and rolled onto the smooth paved road, he felt like he was kidnapping Billy, stealing him from the church in the middle of the night. He reached over and rested his hand on Billy’s thigh, “I missed you today.”

“I was working.” Billy said, and then gently placed his hand on top of Steve’s.

“On a Sunday? Isn’t that illegal if you work for a church?” Steve teased.

Billy reached down between his knees and picked up the duffle bag, and then dropped it again, not wanting to open it just yet. He told himself he’d do it when they got to the lake, that they’d be alone and it would be quiet and beautiful. He just wanted a beautiful moment before everything went to shit, he couldn’t help but think about his last trip to the beach with his mother, before she abandoned him. Billy felt Steve squeeze his hand, Billy turned his palm and laced his fingers through Steve’s.

Steve watched the road, the moon was high and waxing, the stars seemed brighter than normal.

“Billy, are you okay?” Steve asked squeezing his hand.

“Fine. A little buzzed.”

“I’m glad you called.” Steve said.

“I have something for you.” Billy said softly.

“What?” Steve glanced at the road and then at Billy and back at the winding road, they were getting closer to Lover’s Lake, “Like a present?”

“No… something that belongs to you.”

“You have something that’s mine?” Steve frowned, he released BIlly’s hand and put both on the steering wheel turning off a side road and heading towards the lake.

“Yeah.” Billy folded his arms watching the tall trees leaning up and over the car as they went past them on a twisting dirt road. “Is this the way to the lake?”

“Oh yeah, we can’t take the main road, they close that one at sunset. The lake is only open to campers on Friday and Saturday nights until June, then you can camp all week. This is a private road that cuts over onto the park forest, not a lot of people know about it.” Steve looked at Billy, he wondered if he was more drunk than buzzed, he didn’t seem to be making sense, and if Steve didn’t know better he’d think he looked a little frightened. “We’re almost there.”

Suddenly the narrow road they were on merged with a wider paved one, Billy could see more open sky, he rolled down his window and could smell the lake, the heavy scent of pine trees, spring night blooms, wet earth, and plants filled the car.

Steve went off the road and drove across a meadow then parked a few yards from the water’s edge and turned off the engine.

“What’s that sound? Billy asked.

“What sound?” Steve rolled down his window, he could hear crickets.

“That clicking sound?” Billy sounded annoyed.

“Oh, oh, those are frogs.” Steve reached over and found Billy’s hand.

Billy swallowed nodding. They sat in silence for a moment. Billy took several breaths, as if he was about to dive into deep waters. He reminded himself that he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t have the letter and he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t have the skin. Billy leaned forward and reached for the bag, but stopped when he felt Steve’s hand rest on his shoulder.

“Com’ere.” Steve said tugging gently.

“I have to give you something, it’s important.” Billy said stubbornly.

Steve reached over and placed a hand on Billy’s jaw and shoulder, turning him till their lips met. Billy leaned into the kiss, and then pulled Steve tightly to him, squeezing his back and shoulders, he felt Steve straddle him.

Steve grabbed the lever that released Billy’s chair backward and rested his weight onto of him, Billy made a soft protesting sound into the kiss, and then wrapped his arm around Steve.

“I’ve never felt, like I just… belong with someone.” Steve murmured in against Billy’s lips, “That’s how you make me feel, like I belong with you.”

“Don’t say that, don’t, please.” Billy’s voice came out thick, he drew a trembling breath. He turned his face away, and felt Steve’s lips travel over his jaw and his cheek. Billy immediately gave in to the tide of his hunger, and kissed Steve, parting his lips, tasting Steve’s tongue, embracing him and folding a leg over Steve’s pinning him to him.

Steve slowly tilted his head and ran his tongue and lips along Billy’s jaw, and gently nipped at his earlobe, “I want to bite you.” Steve’s whispered, and then kissed Billy’s jaw.

“Do whatever you want to me,” Billy said, his voice low and burring with pleasure.

Steve pulled down the zipper of Billy’s hoodie, shifting above him, “You’re so warm,” Steve said pulling at the waist of BIlly’s t-shirt.

“Maybe that’s because you’re on top of me?” Billy said smiling softly and reached up to swiped at the corner of his right eye.

Steve stopped and looked at him, “Baby, should I stop?”

Billy shook his head, his eyes were sparkling anddamp, “Please, don’t.”

“Let’s get in the back seat.” Steve said, he opened the passenger door and slid off of Billy, and then pulled him out of the car and onto his feet.

“You’re not always going to want me like this,” Billy said. 

“I don’t believe you.” Steve replied as he opened the back door and crawled in, he slid across the backseat making room for Billy.

Billy followed Steve into the back of the car, he shut the door after him, his eyes on Steve the whole time.

“This is better,” Steve said before pulling off his polo shirt.

Billy watched him shed his shirt and reached over to stroke his hand over Steve’s stomach, and press his fingers into the patch of chest hair that hadn’t been so dark and defined just a year ago.

Steve pulled at the shoulders of Billy’s hoodie. Billy slid his arms out and peeled off his t-shirt quickly, for a flash he worried Steve would find his scars revolting, but the thought was just as suddenly banished when Steve pulled him into his arms and tipped back, throwing one leg over his hip anchoring himself on top.

At first the back seat felt too narrow. Billy’s boots pushed against the door, his right shoulder was pressed snugly against the backrest, but soon none of that mattered, because Steve’s hands were roving over his back, his long fingers caressing his skin, skimming over his shoulders with his finger tips, and then squeezing him and kneading him over his shoulders and down the sides of his arms. Steve’s soft mouth worked it’s way up the side of Billy’s neck leaving a wettrail of hot sucking kisses, and gentle nips. Steve made his way all the way up to Billy’s temple making him murmur with pleasure.

Steve sat up straddling Billy’s hips, his hands resting on either side of Billy’s head. He leaned down and kissed Billy, and rocked his against Billy’s hips and hummed into the kiss. Billy grasped at Steve’s belt buckle and pulled it ope and yanked open the button fly of his jeans.

Steve nuzzledBilly’s nose, his lips parted, his breath hot and smelling faintly of the scotch that Billy had been drinking.

Billy’s eyes arched in a smile, “You smell like Scotch.”

“Because I’ve been kissing you, you taste like Scotch” Steve laughed softly and pulled at Billy’s belt, and shifted back.

“Where are you going?” Billy asked, wondering if Steve had changed his mind.

“No where.” Steve smiled, and pushed his jeans and briefs down, he tugged off his sneakers, and inelegantly shifted and writhed around getting undressed.

“Can I take these off?” Steve asked one hand on one of Billy’s boots.

Billy nodded, and started toeing one of his boots off, Steve took over and yanked them both off.

“Do you, like guys or do you just like me?” Billy asked.

“I like you, I like you a lot,” Steve said pulling down Billy’s boxers.

Billy pushed himself up on one elbow, and rested his a hand on the back of Steve’s neck and tugged him into a kiss. Steve complied easily and Billy pulled him into his lap, he stroked a hand over the side of Steve’s neck, brushed his thumb down the front of Steve’s throat pressing lightly, and then ran both fo his hands down Steve’s back and around the fronts of his thighs. Steve loosely folded his arms around Billy’s neck, their temples pressed together. Billy squeezed Steve’s thighs.

Steve liked tasting the scotch on Billy’s tongue and when he felt Billy’s finger’s close around his stiffening cock Steve pulled from the kiss they were sharing and gasped hotly in Billy’s neck.

“I have lube.” Steve said.

“You do?” Billy asked.

“You called me at one in the morning,” Steve said in explanation.

“I did.” Billy nodded and chuckled softly, and then laughed because he was naked in the backseat of Steve’s car and it seemed absurd and like a dream come true. Billy rubbed his hands over his face and another giddy laugh escaped his lips.

When Steve leaned between the front seats, Billy stroked his back and squeezed Steve’s cheeks in both his hands. Steve glanced over his shoulder and smiled, before he grabbed a small bottle of lube from the glove box.

“I like that laugh.” Steve said as he settled back in Billy’s lap.

Billy took the lube out of Steve’s hand. He opened it and filled his palm, his eyes on Steve’s.

Steve brushed his nose against Billy’s, pressed his lips across Billy’s stubbled upper lip, then traced his tongue across Billy’s parted lips. Steve felt Billy’s warm slick hands close around their cocks, stroking them together.

“I’ve wanted you since I first set foot in this shit hole town.” Billy said.

“I didn’t know, I wish I had,” Steve closed his eyes and rocked his hips, fucking slowly into Billy’s hands, “That’s good, so good baby.”

Billy kissed Steve long and slow, he kept his hands moving steadily, he felt Steve’s hands clasp over his. He heard Steve moan into this kiss. Billy pressed his lips to Steve’s ear, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Beautiful? Not handsome?” Steve asked his lips brushing Billy’s as he spoke.

“You’re that too.” Billy kissed him, “Aad very, very hot.” Billy leaned Steve on his back andlaid atop of him.

Billy released Steve’s cock, he gripped his hip with one hand and pressed the other hand between his thighs and squeezed the soft muscled flesh, he turned his palm up stroked the cleft of Steve’s ass, and cupped and caressed his balls.

Steve pressed his fingers into Billy halo of curls, his breath catching said “That feels good.”

“Have been with guys before?” Billy asked as his hand wrapped around Steve’s cock, he tugged a little harder and a little faster.

“No.” Steve gasped and lifted his hips impatiently, “I don’t care you’re a guy, you know that right? I don’t care.”

Billy shifted closer, he pressed his stiff cock between Steve’s thighs, all the while stroking Steve’s cock. “Close ‘em, close your thighs, tight.” Billy muttered nudging and pressing his cock between Steve’s thighs.

“I know what you want.” Steve whispered, “I want it too.”

Billy steadily thrust his hips, his cock slick with lube pumped between Steve’s thighs. Billy tugged and stroked Steve’s cock, pressing his thumb over the tip, making Steve moan. Billy chased his own pleasure and lost himself as fucked harder between Steve’s thighs.

Steve pressed his mouth over the ball of Billy’s shoulder, flit his tongue across Billy’s salty skin and then bit and kissed and licked at Billy’ shoulder, savoring him. “I want to eat you.” Steve said breathlessly between bites and kisses. Billy hadn’t been with anyone for so long, he didn’t want the moment to end, he groaned and squirmed pumping his hips. He felt Steve’s hands on his hips, the sensation of Steve’ palms and fingers sliding over Billy’s ass. Steve’s long gripped Billy’s cheeks, Billy writhed and thrusted.

“Steve,” Billy gasped, and whined, moving harder and then grinding his hips, until he spilled.

“Oh.” Steve murmured, “Oh, baby.” Steve reached between them, he pressed his hand over Billy’s, he still had Steve’s cock in his fist. Steve doubled the speed of the Billy’s strokes, and pressed his face in Billy’s neck making a soft humming whine.

Billy felt Steve’s cum, hot on his fingers and stomach. Billy rebased Steve’s cock and wiped his palm on the backseat, and then wrapped his arms around Steve holding him close, “I feel safe when I’m with you,” Billy said quickly, his throat going tight, his words coming out thickly, “and alive, more alive than I’ve ever been.”

“Baby,” Steve whispered, “Baby, I love you. I love you.”

Billy felt his eyes burning, he gasped and sniffled into Steve’s neck and squeezed him close.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked embracing Billy.

“Fine, fine.” Billy said and turned his head and kissed Steve gently.

Billy turned on his side and then his back hauling Steve on top.

“We need to talk.” Billy mumbled.

“We can talk.” Steve said stroking Billy’s shoulder. “You know it freaks people out when you say things like ‘we need to talk.” Steve nuzzled Billy’s nose.

Billy and kissed Steve’s cheek.

In the thin and pale moon light Steve could see Billy’s heavy lidded eyes dipping shut.

“You’re so tired.” Steve whispered and kissed Billy’s cheek.

“No, I’m not.” Billy mumbled before drifting off to sleep.

**_Monday Morning, May 13th, 1986_ **

**_Lover’s Lake_ **

**_5:15AM_ **

Billy awoke and had no idea where he was. He turned on his back and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and rubbed till he saw stars through his on the backs of his eyelids. Misty dawn light was bleeding through the fogged windows, pearls of condensation was beading on the glass. There was a blanket thrown over him, and he was alone. He remembered he was in the backseat of Steve’s BMW. Billy’s head was buzzing with a mild hangover, his mouth tasted salty, he scrubbed his fingers through his hair as the memories of what had happened only a few hours earlier came flooding back. Billy wondered where Steve was.

Billy started grabbing his clothes, he found his briefs, and his socks and put them on, and found his jeans under the blanket, it was when he was pulling up his pants that he noticed that Steve’s clothes were piled on the passenger seat. Which meant wherever Steve had gone he was as naked as the day he was born. Billy got out of the back seat and opened the driver’s side door, the car keys were on the driver’s seat, Billy’s eyes traveled to down to the duffle bag that he’d brought with him intending to give its contents to Steve as soon as they got to the lake.

The bag was open, the book and the letter were laying at the bottom of the bag, but the skin was gone. Billy turned in a half circle till he was facing the lake, he jogged over to the shore. The morning air was damp and cold. Billy shivered, his eyes scanning over the wide placid lake.

“Steve!” Billy called.

He paced back and forth along the water’s edge. He watched a small quintet of ducks skim down onto the water several yards out from where he was standing. Billy turned back and dashed to the car, he grabbed his hoodie out of the back seat, he impatiently pressed his hair back out of his eyes as he dug around for his keys and eventually found them along with his wallet under the driver’s seat.

He hurried over to the water’s edge and called again, “Steve!”

Billy’s frame shook, his heart was beating so hard in his chest it felt as though a ghost was repeatedly punching him in the chest over and over and over. “He knows, he knows and he hates me.” Billy muttered, his voice sounded alien in his ears. He turned and started walking and then he was running, he ran down the path they’d come and kept running, his breath came out in ragged sobs and ran harder and faster than he had in years.

**_Monday Morning, May 13th, 1986_ **

**_Lover’s Lake_ **

**_5:22AM_ **

Steve heaved himself out of the water and onto soft bending reeds, he’d lost all track of time and been swimming for hours in the quiet dark waters of Lover’s Lake. As he laid on his corpulent side and breathed in the wet scents of algae and damp stones, he watched a small paddling of ducks ghost by on the water’s surface. He inhaled deeply and could smell the oil of their feathers, he barked a small laugh in wonder and sneezed violently when a dragon fly attempted to land on his nose. He felt tired but strong, and old questions about himself were quickly replaced by new.

Steve sat up slowly and without thinking slipped off his selkie skin, and it wasn’t so much like stripping off clothes as it was like going from a waking dream to full consciousness. His animal self went dormant as Steve the man stood up and stretched. It had been full dark when he’d left Billy asleep in the car, and now the sun was starting to break the horizon, its beams cutting brightly through the trees and skimming the water’s surface.

Steve walked on tender feet across the muddy and then pebbled shore of the lake. He tossed his selkie skin over his shoulder as he walked and ran one hand over his head. His hair was heavy with water and droplets were running down his body, it tickled and made him shiver. His feet were muddy from walking through the reeds and he wiggled his toes, it felt as if they’d just sprung out of his feet that morning. Steve laughed and shook his head, still feeling buzzed from his swim and his new life, or old life as a seal, it was somehow both things, old and new. Steve felt liberated and sad, but more than anything he felt the need to see Billy, to show him that he’d found the sealskin, that it was a part of him, he hoped it wouldn’t frighten Billy.

“Billy?” Steve called softly as he approached the car, he walked up to the back door and opened it slowly, “Billy?”

Steve looked around quickly realizing that Billy was not in the car.

“Billy!” Steve called.

Steve felt his heart sink, Billy’s clothes were gone. Steve dressed quickly, he set the skin on the passenger seat and reached into the bag and grabbed the book and letter, he read the letter, and felt confused and furious. His mother’s handwriting hadn’t changed in nearly twenty years. He needed to talk to her, right away, but he was also worried about Billy.

“Goddamnit Billy.” Steve said as he started the car.

When Steve got to the main turn off he decided to go home, he needed to talk to his mother about the letter, and about her time in Scotland, about where he was really from, and who his real parents were.

**_Monday Morning, May 13th, 1986_ **

**_Saint Margaret’s Parish_ **

**_6:30AM_ **

Billy shoved his key in his door and let himself in. He was starting to wonder how many times he could feel like his life was over.First when his mother left, then moving to Hawkins, then when the Mind Flayer had put its tentacle over his mouth. Then when it had finally and truly murdered him. Now again his life felt like it was over and this time it was entirely his fault, he’d kept the skin, even after he figured out what it really was, and had let Steve fall for him.

There was no way Steve would ever like someone like him, Billy was convinced of that. Steve was kind, where he was a bully. Steve looked out for other people, and he had only ever looked out for himself, even getting in that fight about Max being at the Byers’ house, he was only mad because Neil had slapped him around.

Billy grabbed his messenger bag and threw it on the bed along with his backpack and started his stuffing clothes in it, he grabbed his few possessions in a matter of minutes. He didn’t want to be there when Steve came to tell him how much he hated him, that he didn’t love him, that it all had been because of the skin. Steve had been bound to him and Billy had let him think his feelings were real, Steve had trusted him. Now all of that was shattered.

Billy wrote a quick note to Father Scott and left it on the desk next to his keys to the church grounds. He promised himself he’d write to Max when he got to California, and Marissa too, because she was the only adult that really cared if he was okay or not. He opened his wallet and looked at the check from the government, it was still there and there was still time to deposit it. He was going west, and he swore that he was never coming back as he dashed out the door and headed to the Grey Hound Bus station.

**_****_ **

**_Tuesday Evening, August 19th, 1986_ **

**_Point La Jolla San Diego, California_ **

**_6:15PM_ **

Billy stood on the beach watching the waves roll in, they were getting well over five feet and he expected they’d peak a little over six feet before it was seven o’clock. He’d expected flack from some of the locals for being on their beach, but the place was lousy with tourists, it was the end of August and everyone was getting in their beach days before it was time to go back to school. Billy lingered for a bit, and caught the eye of some beach bunnies, but didn’t feel like flirting, not even for show. He picked up his recently purchased second hand surf board and tucked it under his arm, and carried his flip-flops and beach towel back to the van he’d borrowed from his mother for the evening.

Her V.W. Bus was noisy, it brought back Billy’s childhood but only the good parts, like when she’d take him places, just the two of them, running away for a few hours from his dad. The familiar sounds of the burbling engine combined with the smell of gasoline, coconut sunscreen lotion and sandalwood incense made Billy feel less anxious.

Billy and his mother were rebuilding their relationship, it felt fragile, but real. She was now the only real person in his life, and he wanted to believe she was enough, but he knew he was lying to himself. Even she could see he was sad, it didn’t matter if he was smiling, she’d look at him and say, ‘you’re eyes used to sparkle when you were happy’. Billy would tell her he was fine, but would always have to look away, he wasn’t good at lying anymore. Just that morning over coffee she’d told him, that she didn’t know what had happened, but he seemed shellshocked sometimes, just like his grandfather had after he’d come back from Italy at the end of forty-five. Billy didn’t know what to say, but when she reached to take his hand he let her, and they’d just sat there for a quarter of an hour in silence.

Billy drove up the road from the Boomer beach aggressively cutting off other cars, trying to shake off his dark thoughts. He nabbed a primo parking spot at La Jolla Cove and hurried down to the beach afraid he was going to lose the light and miss the good waves. He pulled the zipper of his wetsuit up high to his neck. This wasn’t a place for sun bathers, and the tourist that came here were watching sea lions do their thing by the rocks, but he still felt insecure about showing his scars.

He hand’t been out this way in years. He could still remember visiting the underground tunnel that led to the mouth of Sunny Jim’s Cave, his mother had let him stand on her feet, he’d been so small. Billy narrowed his eyes looking in the direction of the famous landmark but it was difficult to discern with the golden sunlight bouncing off the water’s surface.

Being in San Diego again gave him a sense freedom combined inexplicably with isolation, belonging and loneliness, the emotions were indecipherable. He’d found his mother a month ago, and things were better and clearer, and he wasn’t as angry with her as he used to be, but he felt like he was walking around with a hole in his chest because he knew he’d never see Steve again.

Billy dropped his towel and his flip-flops on a sandy spot near the rocks. There were several warning signs:

**NO Swimming**

**NO Surfing**

**NO Life Guard On Duty For 800 Yards!**

Billy snorted looking at the last one, “I am the life guard.” He said to a loan Cormorant that was perched on a nearby pile of rocks, looking at Billy with its beady pale eye, it clearly did not trust his judgement.

Billy walked into the surf and straddled his board, his wetsuit fit pretty well, he was glad he’d splurged on it, there’s was no one there to see him, but the long sleeves and the high collar made him feel better about his scars. Billy paddled out steadily working his way beyond where the waves were breaking, looking for the sweet spot where he would catch a wave.

He felt better once he was paddling his way through the water, feeling its resistance against his palms, the pull of the tide, all of it felt right. In the back of his mind he was aware of the distant barking of sea lions, the laughing cry of seagulls. He liked the taste of salt on his lips. He paddled and focused on finding the sweet spot, where the waves would lift him and carry him to the shore so he could paddle out and do it all over again.

The first wave he catches is fast moving but smooth and leaves him feeling elated and hungry for more, he’s still a little wobbly but knows all the muscle memory will come back. Billy paddles back out as soon as he can turn his board around. There’s no one to witness his feat except for lazy pelicans coasting along on on breezes and occasionally diving into the water to hunt fish.

The second wave Billy catches is big and fast, the water feels like it’s deliberately trying to tip him over, but he finds his balance, keeps his core tight, his arms wide, his knees soft and he flies across the water, and skims through a barrel of a wave, for just a second he feels electrified, victorious.

Again Billy turns his board, and starts paddling out, the sky has turned a sweet orange color that bleeds into a soft pink, the foam has gone from a soft white to a fizzing gold and even though his arms are already tired and he’s feeling a little out of breath he paddles hard to get to just the right spot, to catch the pearl of the next wave and ride it back to the shore. The wave is coming he can see it swelling, and he feels his board bob low, as if the entire ocean is inhaling the water back out to the depths of the sea. Billy turns his body and the board toward the shore, his eyes on the wave, he jumps to his feet and catches it, but as he’s riding in he’s already looking back, his board feels solid, the leash is secured to his ankle, but he can feel somethings wrong. Then he sees it, a second wave is coming, bigger than the one he’s on, and the wave has him headed towards the rocks, he’d not been paying attention on his first two waves and he was far from clear shore, and heading towards the dark volcanic looking rocks. As he rides his wave through to the end he start trying to turn towards the softer sand covered side of the beach, but he knows the bigger wave’s impact is about to land.

Billy laid flat on his board and grabs the sides and turtle rolls underneath it, the water spins him round and round, his fingers slip their grip and the board twists free from his hands and hit his temple, he feels the leash yank on his ankle and then the pull of the board is gone, he’s tumbling in the water. He can’t tell which way was up, he pushes one direction and feels his hands grasp sand, he’s blinded by the churning sandy water, lost and nearly out of air.

The pressure hurts his ears and his chest, he wonders if it’s all just been borrowed time. His peripheral vision is fuzzing with black static, the water blurs into a stormy grey.

**_Tuesday Evening, August 19th, 1986_ **

**_Point La Jolla San Diego, California_ **

**_7:47 PM_ **

The sea lions are not to be trusted. Steve knows this. He gives them a wide birth, they’re mischievous and annoying, although not as annoying as seagulls. He’s also learned to watch surfers from a good distance, even though sometimes he likes to zip under their boards and pretend they’re his friends. He’s often lonely these days.

Steve has a route that he maintains. He swims along the shore all around La Jolla. He swims and eyes all the surfers of a certain height, build and age. He wonders if he’d have better luck spending more time on land than out in ocean, but here the food is free and he’s too busy moving to feel loneliness too keenly.

Steve pops his head through the surface of the water and inhales the salt laden breeze, he observes the is on its downward decent, which meant it’s almost time to head back to the shore, to slip back into the swim trunks and t-shirt he’d left in a backpack with a few other things tucked near some rocks below the bluff, far enough from soft sandy areas so no nosey beachcombers would discover his things. He swims swiftly, like an arrow cutting through the water far beneath the surface and then shoots up for one more peak at the beach he’s headed to. Steve pokes his head out of the water and eyes the waves crashing against the shore, he finds the sound comforting and familiar,like it pulls from an ancient memory, it isn’t quite nostalgia but something close. From his vantage he can see street lights flickering to life beyond the shore, up where people parked their cars, where he’d left his own vehicle, it’s strange to think of things, of having possessions, when he’s his seal self.

Steve spots a board washed up on the shore, its leash curled in the sand. He looks around, but sees no surfers. The board is long, Steve gazes water’s surface again, the waves are breaking hard on the beach and against the rocks. He doesn’t see a soul. The board is big enough for a grown man. Steve knows this because he’s been studying the surfers, the types of boards they use, the varied shapes and sizes, he’d been watching them for days and days. It wasn’t likely that a surfer would just abandon their board on the beach and then there was the snapped leash. Steve ducks under the water and bullets nearer and nearer the shore searching for the missing surfer.

********

Billy sputters, gasps and vomits up what feels like a gallon of sea water. Some one is thumping on his back, he twists on the sand, his stomach muscles are spasming. He keeps coughing up more and more salt water, his eyes sting and his nose and throat are burning. His vision is blurredas he looks around andsees that he’s safely on dry land, he feels shocked to be alive. Someone is rubbing and alternately pounding on his back and it forces out more water.

“Breathe, just breathe, you’re okay, you’re okay.” They say over and over like a mantra.

Billy reaches up and rests his hand on his temple and then lowers it before his eyes, his fingers are stained red with blood. “Oh shit.” Billy says his voice alien and hoarse.

“Just keep breathing.”

Billy nods weakly, he feels his throat contract and he throws up more sea water, and then rests his eyes and sinks into an exhausted sleep.

********

When Billy wakes up he’s being held gently, arms are cradling him a chin is rested comfortably on his shoulder, a cheek presses to his own. Billy’s eyes focus on a small burning pile of drift wood, next to it his wetsuit is laid out on his board. Billy lowers his chin feeling lightheaded, he’s naked, but swaddled warmly in a seal skin that shines like silver and pewter raindrops in the twilight.

“I knew I’d find you.” Steve says into Billy’s ear and kisses his cheek.

Billy turns his head, his nose lightly bumping Steve’s. Billy stares mutely, not wanting to believe that he’s really looking at Steve.

“I think you owe me your life now.” Steve whispers.

“It’s yours.” Billy says his voice gravely, he realizes how thirsty he is, which he finds ridiculous being that he’d almost just drowned.

“Here,” Steve says as he presses a canteen into Billy’s hands.

Billy takes a mouthful of water rinses out his mouth, and then a long swallow of sweet tasting fresh water. He coughs a little but feels much better..

“Are you really here?” Billy asks, keeping his eyes on the fire, afraid if he looks at Steve he’ll vanish in a puff of smoke.

“In the flesh.” Steve says.

“What are you doing here?” Billy closes his eyes and leans against Steve’s chest.

Billy wonders how hard the surfboard hit him in the head, he wonders if he’s hallucinating. Billy reaches up and touches his forehead.

  
“You’re still bleeding.” Steve says, “He dabbed a towel to Billy’s temple. “But it’s slowed down.”

“I thought you hated… me, you were gone when I woke up, and I thought you…you have every right to.” Billy’s voice trails off.

“I don’t hate you. I don’t hate you at all, I love you.” Steve says squeezing Billy gently in his arms. “I was in the lake, I found the skin, and I knew, I just knew it was mine and I had to put it on. I swam and it was… the most amazing thing, I can’t put it into words.” Steve pauses, collecting his thought and kisses Billy’s temple, “I didn’t even know it existed until you brought it to me.”

“I should have given it to you sooner.” Billy’s voice trembles lightly, he turns to face Steve and hugs him tightly.

Steve squeezes Billy closer. “When you weren’t in the car I drove home. I walked straight into the kitchen, my mother was having her coffee like normal, my dad had already left for work. I’m actually glad he wasn’t there. I showed her the skin, and just said, ‘tell me everything,’ and she did.”

“She’d been in Scotland, she thought she had plenty of time before the baby was due and then just days before flying home, maybe five weeks before it was due, she miscarried. She said she didn’t tell anyone because she was ashamed and alone and thought it was her fault. Those are the words she used, ashamed and alone, she felt guilty for losing another baby, like she had any control over it.” Steve fell silent for a moment and watched the waves.

When he starts speaking again, his voice is a little lower, “She took it to the beach, she said she must have been delirious. I’m not mad at her, but at the same time I am. She said she found me, she found me sitting on the beach on a little white seal fur.”

Billy lifts his head to look at Steve’s face and listens intently.  
  
“She said there was no one there, and that she rescued me, but really what she did was kidnap me, she stole me from the beach, and then she convinced everyone I was her baby. Everyone but dad.”

Billy watches as an impossibly large tear travels down the side of Steve’s cheeks.

Steve keeps his eyes on Billy’s, “I’m so glad you gave me my skin, it’s like everything makes sense now. I’m not stupid, I’m just not a human, I’m different, you know? And my father, he knows I’m not his son. He’s always known, but he kept my mother’s secret and it’s like he’s resented me my whole life, like hated me for not being his. So I left. When I couldn’t find you I went to see Max, and I asked her where you were, and she said she didn’t know and told me about the check you got.”

“So you came all the way out here, to San Diego?” Billy asked placing his hands on Steve’s face and wiping away Steve’s tears with his thumbs, “You came all this way?” Billy asked his brow furrowing. “For me?”

“I came to La Jolla, you said the best beaches were here.” Steve replies.

“I did say that.” Billy lowers his eyes remember the first nigh Steve drove him to Saint Margaret’s.

I didn’t mean to trap you, to force you to want to me.” Billy says looking Steve in the eyes.

Steve reaches up and takes both of Billy’s hands in his. “It wasn’t the skin, that made me love you. It was you. I didn’t stop loving you when you gave it back to me, you didn’t trick me.”

“How long have you been out here?” Billy asks.

“I’ve been swimming in these waters since June, waiting to find you” Steve kisses Billy’s temple near his wound, “but it feels like I’ve been looking for you my whole life.”

“How long can you stay, how long do I have you?” Billy asks afraid of what the answer will be.

“I don’t know,” Steve says looking in Billy’s eyes, “Forever?”

Billy leans into Steve and cups his face in his hands, and kisses him tenderly. Billy tastes sea on Steve’s warm lips. His heart quickens and he feels Steve rest his palm lightly on his chest, just over his thrumming heart.

“I like the sound of forever.” Billy says.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Unusual Selkie folklore:  
> To kill a Selkie is bad luck.  
> A Selkie pelt will change with tide, its fur will reflect the temperament of the sea.  
> A Selkie skin is good luck.  
> If a human stabs a Selkie, only they can heal the wound by placing their mouth over it and breathing into it. The Selkie’s clan will sometimes forgive them for their crime but forbid them from ever hunting seals again.  
> Some Selkie and human offspring have webbed fingers.  
> If a Selkie finds their skin, they’ll return to the sea never to return again.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
